An Open Letter to Myself
Please, I beg you, look out the window before you leave for work in the morning.
This five second task will save you tons of aggravation, I promise. For example, when it is a blizzard outside, and you decide to wear glasses, moccasins, your hair down, and bring no umbrella with you, you might as well have been wearing bermuda shorts, a tank top, and flip flops—you are by no means prepared for the outdoors.
1. You never wear glasses. Why? Despite the fact that they a.) make you look smarter and b.) According to Abi, make you look more serious because they mask the "sarcastic smirk" that owns real estate on your face for the majority of the day, they ruin your depth perception when climbing subway steps and hey, when it's raining/snowing, they get wet and fog up, rendering you blind and helpless.
2. You try to wear your hair down often because it helps balance out your giant, round, Charlie Brown-like head. However, life gets in the way and finding time to blow dry and straighten your hair in the morning proves difficult. So the day you decide to wake up a little early and actually do your hair is also the day that winds are blowing at 630mph
and rain/snow is beating down on you like a redneck husband. You curse yourself for not keeping a spare hair tie in your bag and spend the duration of your work day sporting a hairdo not unlike the one Robert Smith had in the late 1980s.
3. You have about 500 umbrellas at home, just begging to be used, and because you are unaware of the monsoon occurring outside of your apartment, you do not grab one on your way out the door. 2 minutes into your walk to the subway, you decide you can handle the rain. 3 minutes into it, you realize that a) you a virtually blind because of
all the precipitation on your glasses and b) the hair you so carefully straightened is now sopping wet. You duck into Rite Aid and buy the cheapest umbrella-you know, the one with soccer balls all over it.
4. Despite the fact that you have a pair of boots, you opt for wearing your moccasins. After purchase of the moccasins, your family has given you a cute new nickname: Pocahontas. You don't care—you love your moccasins.
Way to ruin them trudging through sleet, snow, and those deceivingly large puddles that form at the corners of streets that are about 2 feet deep. The best part about having a pair of authentic is that when they get wet, they turn your socks and feet bright orange.
The moral of the story is simple: look out the fucking window in the morning, ahole.