Or caveat. Whatever.

After reading my bag lady post, he told me I sound like I’m down-and-out or something.

I tried to explain to him that the underlying meaning of post was priorities.

And right now, mine are not pulling an ensamble together to look good every day. Which actually is rather ironic, because when I graduated from high school, my mock election awards were “Miss Seventeen Magazine” and “Most likely to marry a politician.” Miss Seventeen not because I was a fashion victim per se, but I sure did like the trappings of fashion that fit in with my style. The other award I sort of took offense to. I remember pondering why wouldn’t it be “most likely to BE a politician”? I thought it was sexist. Maybe I still do. Funny from an all-girls school. Funnier still because when my daughter graduated from an all-girls school and not one student or teacher at the graduation spoke about the possibility of motherhood as a goal, I completely took offense to that. I’m just a mental (oxi)moron. But I digress.

Okay, so sure, I can pull it together. And I often do. I have to stand and sing in front of church full of folks on Sunday, and on those days, it is my priority to fix myself up. If I’m going out on the rare date night with my always pressed spouse, I pull it together for that, too. I like to look nice. I like clothes. And I love shoes. I really do. (I hear all the women reading this singing … “Hello! Who doesn’t?”)

BUT …. it’s just that I’d rather take what little time I do have and sit down and write about what a bag lady I am, instead of put on mascara or something. And if I put on the mascara instead, perhaps I’d have nothing to write about. AND I’d just wash the mascara down the drain at the end of the day anyway and not have a lot to show for it. But at least if I’m a bag lady, I get a story. And for me, that’s icing on the fish eggs.

So here's a picture of me. With my husband back in the 80s. When we won the Publishers Clearing house Sweepstakes.