I am not exactly having the best week. Yesterday morning, I remembered, too late, that eggs make me sick to my stomach. After biting into a sausage egg and cheese croissant, my tummy did an odd turn, which led to me running my car into the side of the curb, which led to a popped tire.
My poor ex of many moons ago, C, came to rescue me yet again. I was, oddly enough, wearing workout gear. C. had to take my my spare to get air. I realized that I felt powerless, standing there in sweat clothes and a too-nice coat.
While he was gone, I crawled into the backseat of my car and changed. I tried, with all my might, not to flash the passers-by. I carefully climbed into my jeans and white peplum top. I re-attached my pearls and put on high heels and the emergency berry colored lip gloss I keep in my clutch for moments like that.
Armed with lip gloss, high heels and pearls, I felt like the best version of myself. I could think more clearly. I could strategize. I felt ready to go to war with the day that wrecked all of my careful plans.
Today, I carefully prepared for a day of haggling with mechanics. Funny, isn’t it, how 5 minutes of makeup application can make you feel ready to face whatever and whoever you may meet? Although I was rocking sneakers, a fly coat and minimal makeup, I felt pretty. And when I feel pretty, I act like a boss.
I have serious issues with this message but…I’ll leave that for another entry. Right now it works!
While in the waiting room at Walmart, I watched a low-rate talk show about paternity testing and cheating. I immediately tsk-tsked in disapproval at all the awful weaves and wigs the women were wearing. I recognized all of the wigs, of course; I had tried them on myself a few months ago, when I last went wig shopping. I dismissed them as being a bit too ridiculous.
But as these women shook their heads in disapproval at a man who denied that he was the father of their child, I realized that their weaves, nails, and high heels were a part of their armor. In fact, they were just as much a part of their armor as my pearls and navy and gold Kenneth Cole coat.
A nun stood next to me in the waiting room and watched the show. I noticed the top of her habit, combined with a gold ring made dull with age. She too, was dressed for her calling.
It is easy to look at others and judge them because we think that they are terribly dressed.
But after my experiences, I may have to withhold judgment. I don’t know the war that some women face. All I know is, when I’m facing a difficult situation, I need some lipstick
…and high heels.
And then I’m ready for war.