My Uniform

As the eleventh month of the pandemic engulfs us I have succumbed to corona dressing. As it has been cold and rainy with no place to go I realized this afternoon that I have worn the same outfit three days in a row. Not that anyone else noticed either.

Dressed head to toe in black, warm and comfy has been the theme. I have put on clean black socks and underwear everyday, and then lifted the top layer of clothing from the chair besides my bed to get dressed. The pants, and shirt are a matching set, thinner than sweat shirt material, but warm and fuzzy on the inside like a good hoodie. I resemble some lumpy kind of grim Reaper, but I am warm and unrestricted.

I feel like I have reached a real low for dressing even though I am still showering and putting on mascara. It proves to me there are still available depths to descend.

When all I am doing is cleaning, binge watching British detective shows and needlepointing I don’t see the need to create new outfits. This one has served me well in keeping me warm as the heating in the house is somewhat uneven, especially as the sun goes down.

Once I realized that these clothes had become a uniform I thought that I maybe should pick something different out to wear tomorrow, but once I looked at my calendar I decided the point was moot.

I can see that the need for a calendar is also unnecessary. At this point I am just waiting for spring so I can work in the garden and I will be able to tell when the days are warm enough without the need of some counting tool. I can only imagine what horrific uniform I will come up with for gardening, but since I don’t like being dirty I will have to have multiples of each top and bottom so I can put on something clean each day. For now, in winter, clean is all relative. A black uniform is very forgiving.