Yes, that was me you saw on the sidewalk, in socks, pajama bottoms, and a mis-matched top.
I was getting ready to paint, and we all know you wear grubbies to do that, right?
I leapt into the car and headed to the medical office. I didn’t have time to pull off my woolly socks and put shoes on. These clothes approximate what I wore:
Here is the picture of my bra:
Aha! There isn’t one, because I wasn’t wearing one.
Other people were in the elevator as I headed up to the office. They looked at my chest and my feet. I looked at the floor.
In the waiting room there were several women staring, so I finally said, “Hey, if this isn’t proof that I no longer care about other people’s opinions, then nothing is.”
They chuckled, and one of them told me she wore a pajama top to a restaurant once, and a lady complimented her on her pretty blouse.
A nurse called my name. “Cute pants,” she said. “You look like a teenager.”
And now I think we both know a new fashion trend is afoot.
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