Day Four of A Look into the Average Every Day Life of Keturah

It's getting to be that time where I need a little more sleep than usual. Once more I didn't open my eyes until nearly 5:30, and then I lazed a good twenty minutes on Twitter. 

I sit on my "dog-mattress" bed, stare at my dresses, books, and journals and think, "I'm a minimalist with a lot of material wealth." 

I went for a glass of water, then read the last few chapters of Nehemiah. Something about singers and lots of names. I read a few chapters of Adeel's novel, then practiced French. 

In this way much of the morning passed. At last I went outside and started my car. While the windshield defrosted I made breakfast... scrambled eggs, put three pieces of bacon and a slice of onion into the oven on broil, then hung up my wet laundry on the drying rack. 

When I returned the onion was good, but the bacon black. I'll eat it anyway. I only ate one piece. 

I fed my sourdough, took vitamins, dressed, and washed some dishes. I made tea: a large thermos with two Oolong bags, some stevia, and a scoop of collagen. I fixed my egg burrito then grabbed my purse and all the things that belong in a purse.

What belongs in a purse? 

A book, a notebook, chopsticks, tissues, cards, wallet, ear buds, and more. Tberes a other small pocket full of chapstick and essential oils. 

I took my food out to my car because I was out of time. 

(I accidentally baked the tortilla a bit too long, too)

I have a forty minute drive to work. I plug my phone in to the cigarette lighter, eat my breakfast, and listen to old music on 94.7 and thinking. I enjoy my car rides where I may smile as much as I like and laugh at my thoughts and things people have said and dream about things people shall say. 

Today I had some especial enjoyable thoughts, one I meant to share here, and explore further. But... I can't remember what it was! 

I arrived to work with a full stomach and fully charged phone! 

Today was my sewing day. And there were piles to be done! 

There's good music there, too, better even than my car radio. I like the people I work with. It's all well organized and I feel I'm learning a lot. I've also been given the freedom to just be brave and try things. 

Today's bravery: tapering pants. Two pair! 

Halfway through the day I take off my shoes. How did I have them on so long? 

I hemmed lots! Mended a few sweaters. Moved the waist on a dress. And such. 

I learned to use a serger and blind hemmer. I put sticky note with questions on repairs that stumped me. The guy I work with sat on his register counter. Only good souls do that, right? We argued over whether a pair of dress pants were grey or brown. 

I lifted up my cashmere sleeve. "This is brown!"

"That is a very chocolate brown."

Who was right? Do we ever know who is right? 

(When it comes to colors girls are usually always right).

Sewing and I have a weird relationship. I'm decent at it. I think. But it does something to my brain that I don't quite like. But then I do love what happens when I'm done sewing. 

Magic happens. 

I remember what I was going to say. Let's just insert it now!!

Pockets. It's all about pockets. You see, the thought started when I put on a down vest as I left the house, my dark brown wool shirt not quite warm enough for today. 

Ah. It has pockets. I don't have to starve today. I can fill my pockets with Brazilian nuts. 

That's when I finally realize just why it's a crime for women's clothes to not have pockets. Also, if a women is angry just see if she has pockets. No pockets? Ah, there you go. She had no place to keep food to scare away the demons that try and live in all women's pockets. 

If you have any say in a woman's life make sure she always has pockets, and doubly make sure those pockets are filled with nuts. She won't be berating you randomly and irrationally anymore of you guarantee this one thing.

I quit around 5pm and drove straight home, eating the sourdough I'd packed in my purse. 

A client called me. The phone call freaked me out at first because the number is still programmed in the wife's number, and she's been dead a couple years... I hardly clean for him anymore. 

Have any openings this week? How would Friday morning work? Great, see you then. 

I don't have cell service at my house, so I checked to see if must reply to any texts before reaching home. I drank some of my tea, still hot. 

Home.

I grabbed a bowl of granola and ate a pomegranate, cleaned up the kitchen some, and got in a small war of wills with my little sister. Guess neither of us ate enough nuts. I won all the same. 

I started hemming the lining of my ball gown. A friend texted, and so we chatted and I hemmed, and away the evening driften into sweet places. 

Jacob came over and played piano for awhile. Bekah Jo left to visit with the Mormon boys over at Mom's house. 

I made a bowl of noodles and chose a pair of metal chopsticks. 

I finished hemming the lining. I'll do the rest another day. 

It's nearly 9:30. I shall journal. I want to think about another thought: 

How we call people hypocrites, in essence accusing them of not being themselves. But more often than not we say this to people we don't know well. Or we have neglected to see them and hear what we say. Nevertheless we have the gall to call them a hypocrite. 

"You aren't doing as you say." Have we heard what they say, or watched enough of them to truly understand their message?

"You aren't being you." So we know this person well enough to know this? 

I'm thinking only friends should call friends hypocrites so that they might remind their friend of who they are. But anyone else? If you don't know them, you don't know if they are a hypocrite. Let them be. 

And now I might read a bit, too. 

This is part of a series requested by Melissa to share what my life looks the week leading up to Christmas.