Boots and a Bathrobe

boots

Okay… let me just say, I look NOTHING like the woman above!

First of all my boots are lace up, ankle high, shit brown, suede combat boots; with faux fur peeking out from around the top.  They’re new.  I picked them up in an after Christmas sale, on a French shoe website.  They were bargain.  Sorry, I digress… I’m wearing my new boots around the house today to break them in, make sure they fit.

Since I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do with my day, I haven’t  actually gotten dressed yet… in real clothes anyway;  hence the bathrobe.

My bathrobe is very similar to the one above, except it’s red, faded, worn and a bit drab.  {So not at all similar to the one above actually!}  One of the belt loops has torn off, so when the belt isn’t tied around my waist, which is often, it looks like I have a long red leash dragging behind me on the  floor, picking up all the dust kitties.

I was quite content wandering around the house this morning in my worn robe and new combat boots, until I felt a slight pang in my chest.

You know the one; an incredibly sharp, very intense pain; felt primarily on the left side of your chest.  It is so strong it instantly grabs 100% of your attention and sends you into “fight or flight mode!

If you’ve experienced this pain you’re sure it’s “the big one.”  You see your life flash before your eyes and think of a million things you haven’t done yet.

If you have experienced this particular pain, you too may have noticed it is often felt just before a very loud, audible, uncontrollable belch! 

It’s also superseded by the sounds of your inner demons laughing aloud and yelling “Psych” as you look around, very red faced and embarrassed.  {For you young ones, “psych” (or sike/syke) is a 1980’s slang word that was used after you had played a joke on someone or said something that totally “psyched them out.”} 

These days my body is constantly playing tricks on me and making me feel like an old fool, so this type of thing normally doesn’t bother me, but today…   Well, I must say, the thought of being found, dead on the floor, wearing nothing but an old, worn-out bathrobe,  ladened with dust kitties and a pair of (albeit cute) shit brown combat boots, has me totally freaked out!!!

This is not the way I intend to go out! 

I pictured young, strong, handsome paramedics breaking into the flat to find me lying on the floor, dead, dressed like a character from Ken Kesey’s novel, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” (You young ones, look it up and read a book once in awhile!) and that was simply not acceptable!

So, on this day, January, 5th, 2016, I have officially made a New Year’s resolution…

I will get up each morning and before doing anything else, I will get myself dressed like I’m going somewhere special.  I will be fucking ready for whatever the day brings…  even death.   

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5 thoughts on “Boots and a Bathrobe

  1. Ha ha! Great story! I had to make the same resolution after I realised I spent all day being terrified that the doorbell would ring when I work from home in my pyjamas! xx

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    1. The day after this blog was written the doorbell rang times!!!! Three separate deliveries! I was still in the bathrobe, just not the boots! Fuck me! Thanks for reading! xxx

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