Right Brain/Left Brain: 29 Years of Miscommunication
I am no spendthrift and definitely no fashion queen. As a matter of fact, I have a tendency to wear clothes and shoes way past their expiration date. I actually had a pair of boots fall apart in a shoe store, forcing me to purchase a new pair so that I could continue with my day. So when I recently bought some new jeans using coupons coupled with a sale, I put them on and asked Jack what he thought of them. A few weeks earlier I bought a pair of sandals on sale so I donned the whole ensemble. I might be one of the few women in America who can get buyer’s remorse after spending $30 total on jeans and a pair of shoes.
“So what do you think?” I ask Jack.
“I like the jeans,” he says, “but the shoes are different.”
“What do you mean by ‘different’?” I ask, a little annoyed at the somewhat critical sounding, non-description.
“I mean they’re different,” he says flatly.
Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I look down to discover that when grabbing the shoes from my closet, I grabbed a right and a left, but I’m wearing a mismatched pair of sandals, a different style on each foot.
Our communication styles will never mesh.
posted by Gail @ 6:29 PM
2 Comments
2 Comments:
I understand your feelings about buying clothes. At some point in life you begin to disdain stylishness in favor of thrift.
I have no interest in clothes anymore - except to ensure that they are clean. I have clothes I wear in my home office that I refer to as "softees."
The pants are 10 years old and have been washed hundreds of times. The cotton is soft and comfy. I have bought one or two shirts in the last few years, but I also have some that I wear on errands that are 20 years old.
Going to Macys and buying new clothes is an onerous thought. Since I moved to the boonies, I've bought most of my pants (jeans) at Walmart. Part of all this is frugality; the other part is getting too old to give a shit what you wear.
Yeah, Jack keeps trying to make me give up some of my t-shirts for him to use as rags in the garage. Pretty sad, but as you say, comfortable.
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