There are those who always seem to have their shit together. Dressed sharply, hair perfectly coiffed, car clean with a heater/air conditioner that works. They have cute coffee cups. They smell of fresh fruits.
And then.. there are people like myself. I am the type of person that leaves her house with coffee in a plastic cup from a local restaurant/bar, or if that isn't available due to the dishwasher being on the fritz, maybe the container from a mixer deal called "the Bullet" designed to smoosh up smoothies, etc. The container has a handle, is clean, and holds a lot of coffee. Voila.
There are those that keep their cars immaculately clean on the inside and the outside. They take them in every 3,000 miles for an oil change and every 6,000 for tire rotations. If their car starts making noises that resemble metal scraping on metal, they take them in to the garage. They never have expired tags.
Then there are people like myself. I drive a 12 year old car with a giant dent in the side that should have been repaired right after one of my students hit it, but instead I took the insurance money and bought new tires. There is more shit in the back of it than any hoarder could possibly dream of. The upside is, if I'm ever stranded, I could probably dig around in the back and find things to cook on, sit in, and even possibly even some yard games to pass the time until a tow truck could reach me.
My car has 900 stickers professing my athletic abilities (middle aged people need to beat their chests too).The heater barely works so I'm almost defrosted by the time I get to work. Okay, actually that's a lie. I only work 5 minutes from my house and it takes a good 45 for the heater to even knock off the chill. The tags are always within a two year window of being registered (that's an exaggeration. Two months, I meant two months.)
Such is life...
I will always be the girl with the socks which may or may not be matched correctly. The girl whose legs might resemble a chinchilla at any given time. The girl who instead of getting up early to get her car thawed (or even have a garage to put the sumbitch in) will instead scrape the front window with a shitty Blockbuster card (aren't they bankrupt?) and hope that only one side of the driver's window is required for viewing.
If I am the only one who exists with these conditions... good shit. Character builder. Makes for more stories in the end. I feel certain, though, there are others in the world that resemble me. The character of Pig Pen had to be based off someone.
So, rock on perfectly coiffed, cutely dressed people of the world. I will continue my path of utter disregard for all things typically associated with adult human behavior. But I will always applaud you for your own efforts. As soon as I set my rimmed "coffee cup" down and figure out how to get the interior lights of my car to go off.
Variety. The spice of life.
