Ode to the Nudist

Every day, I should just thank the good Lord that I have successfully dressed myself.

Not in praise of clothes on my back or the ability of my body to physically accomplish it (which are valid and certainly deserving of thanks), but rather in praise that I have managed to pick out something that I have somehow convinced myself is clean, doesn’t hug my love handles, doesn’t show my back fat, doesn’t reveal my arm waddle, doesn’t have underwear lines, is something I haven’t worn too recently, doesn’t look too slutty, somehow suggests I might have fashion sense if I tried, and looks good with all the other things I have on that meet all those  same requirements.

To complicate matters even more, let us not forget that just because an article of clothing (or even an entire outfit) could be cleared for my departure from the house one day doesn’t mean that it will be cleared forevermore.  Every single day I have to consider these things all at once and quickly and yet somehow every single day, I leave my apartment fully clothed.

This is surely a miracle.

When I consider that I have managed to do this for at least most of my life without leaving the house even just ONE time naked, I’m overwhelmed by my genius.

I’ll repeat it; I’m not ashamed: “I’m overwhelmed by my genius”

Really think about it.  I give myself an ever-increasing limit to what I call “the absolute last minute I can leave the house” method every single morning.  Every morning, I wake up just a wee tiny bit later than I did the day before.  I will continue to toe this line until I am clearly late for work and then I will back up one minute and call it “the absolute last minute I can leave the house.”  I’ve done it with every job, ever.  This one is 8:12.  Last one was 6:35.  The one before, 7:46.

That means every day I only have a miniscule window of time to decide what to wear.  And yet I am continually successful.   That’s the work of a genius.

I mean, when I look at my clothing selection even just now while writing this, I think man….I really need to buy some new clothes.  I don’t have anything to wear!  Not a single thing! WHAT HAVE I BEEN WEARING ALL THIS TIME?!

I start to wonder how it is that I’ve managed to put together anything at all from the shabby options that all make me look fat, lopsided, are see-through, a bad color, has a hole, it really is amazing that I haven’t just given up and joined a nudist colony.

Then again, I hate to be nude.

I hate to be nude because I don’t like the feeling of skin that never has direct contact with furniture suddenly establishing that relationship.  It’s odd.  And sometimes you stick to it.

So here’s to you, Nudist.  For breaking free of society’s demand to wear clothes.   For being comfortable with that ripping sound you feel when you get up from sitting on leather.  And above all, for cutting a good 7 stress-filled minutes off your morning routine.

Cheers. ♣

Tags: 365 Project, Humor, life, musings, postaday2011, ramblings