When you can't just run out and replace things, their importance takes on a whole new meaning.
A few weeks ago I spent 5 hours at a girlfriend's house painting. It is a story too long for a blog post, but she needed some serious help. Her ex-husband is dying from cancer, her daughter was graduating from college and she had family descending en masse for the weekend. Typical foundational stuff for a BREAKDOWN, so I went over to help her. I'd just left a volunteer job at a charity event and forgot we were PAINTING and I was trying to scuttle over there as fast as I could before she stuck her head in a 5 gallon bucket of paint. But I did do the most important thing and stop at the liquor store to pick up two bottles of champagne. The Good Kind of Girlfriends just don't show up to comfort you without liquor, and somehow getting drunk before noon on a Saturday seemed like just the thing she needed. Sometimes I just wonder how smart I really am...
When I arrived and remembered we were PAINTING, I realized I had one of my all time favorite pair of jeans on. She offered to let me borrow some or find some of her ex's sweats, but I was too stubborn, or tired, or stupid, or didn't want to impose, or wanted to start drinking, but duh, I left them on. If I'd been smart I would have painted in my underwear.
Trying to be careful was easy at first, but after the first couple of glasses of champagne on an empty stomach, I threw caution to the wind, and at some point in the fuzzy afternoon splattered paint down the leg of those wonderful, well fitting, broken in jeans. These happened to be one of the only pair I can wear to work, a darker wash and a trouser fit. So basically I screwed up and now don't even have the pleasure of going out and finding a replacement pair. That sucks.
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