Yesterday was a Monday. We're stuck with one of those every week, and this one, like most, had its special challenges. Why, might I ask, does time work differently on Monday mornings? There appears to be plenty, and then *poof* - it disappears.
The shower I use is on the fist floor, and my bedroom and closet, the second. This requires at least one run up and down because I am not the type to lay out my clothes the night before. After showering, I discovered that I had failed to snag a pair of socks for the day, so I ran back upstairs. Due to the Monday morning time warp, I was running behind, so I grabbed a pair of knee-highs, spotted my pretty Old Navy bag, remembered that I have a pile of stuff at work that needs to come home, and thought "Hey, that's handy!", tossed the socks in, slipped my feet into my shoes intending to put on the socks downstairs so I wouldn't wake my still-sleeping hubby, dashed downstairs, remembered I needed to take coffee, filled the cup, put on my coat and ran for the door, tossed stuff in the car, scraped off the frost, got halfway to work and realized my coffee was sitting on the table in the living room and went to the drive-through at McDonald's for their free-cup-of-coffee special.
Monday morning is this: One long, unintelligible run-on sentence.
Work was typically Monday-crazed, and I left the office a little before 7 PM. I walked out the door into a light, cold rain carrying my full Old Navy bag. About three steps out, I felt the cold rain hitting the tops of my feet and looked down. No socks. Not that it was easy to tell by looking - winter's been so long my feet are so blindingly white they could pass for gym socks without a problem.
That's undoubtedly why no one appeared to notice.
PS I just looked up and my coffee from yesterday is still sitting on the living room table. With the Old Navy bag. Which is still full - of used coffee cups. My Monday runneth over.