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the color pink

June 5, 2013

i ruined my first ever load of laundry last night.  10 years of doing laundry and i suddenly have pink socks, pink t-shirts, pink undies.  but i still have red pants {those scoundrels!} so that’s a good thing.  old me would have lashed out.  maybe i would have slammed the dryer door shut and skulked around my apartment.  i might have even cried or drowned my pink, pink sorrows in a bag of lay’s potato chips.  but there’s something different about this me.  and i don’t keep potato chips in the house any more.  maybe i am older and wiser and realize that slamming the dryer would only serve one purpose- to scare away dust bunnies.  maybe i care less – my laundry is 89% composed of running clothes to begin with, who cares if pink is my new running uniform?  maybe i’m more centered and grounded and focused on the big picture and laundry is decidedly not a part of my big picture.  or maybe, just maybe, i’ve finally accepted that i am not perfect.  and i never will be.

so pink is my new color.  my perfect laundry streak is shot.  and i applaud my sneaky red pants for their feat of trickery.  but i think this life lesson was better served last night, to a 28-year-old worried with pleasing the universe, than it would have been to a college coed green (or pink) in the ways of the world.

lesson: learned.


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