Tuesday, 31 January 2012
The small miracle of underwear
The truth is, there is a time to laugh, and laughing at yourself is truly valuable, because it keeps life in perspective. For those of you who have heard this story before, I apologize, but it bears retelling.
Last February, I went to my first ever writer's conference. For me, it was a zip-line type adventure. I was launching into an unfamiliar world that both intrigued and terrified me. I've always been shy, and something like this was definitely outside my comfort zone. I'd never even flown by myself without someone waiting for me at the other end. (Have you picked up that I'm not exactly a world traveler?)
So I prepared carefully. I was especially concerned about my clothes, as I wanted to present a professional, put-together image. Basically, I wanted to fool them into thinking I knew what I was doing. Which I definitely didn't. I took my suits to the dry cleaners, and deliberated carefully about which blouses to take, and what jewelry would compliment but not overwhelm each outfit. I had a different outfit for every day. I was prepared.
When I arrived at Denver airport, I met my roommate, who was a feisty senior and veteran of three conferences. Together we traveled to the hotel, found our room, and I began to unpack.
Have you guessed the punch line yet? In all my careful preparations, I had neglected to pack underwear. I had the pair I was wearing. That was it.
While my roommate studied her conference binder, I ventured out ("to get some fresh air") on a quest for underwear. I wanted Wal-Mart or Target or the like. What I found was hundreds of boutique-like stores that sold everything but what I was looking for. The one that came close was "Victoria's Secret", but one look in the window told me that I wasn't going to find what I wanted there, either. (Oh, my!) Besides, I was getting worried about adding "getting lost" to my list of adventures. I carefully picked my way back to the hotel.
The only solution that presented itself was to wash out my one pair of underwear every night. However, there was no way I wanted my roommate to know my predicament, so rather than hanging them in the bathroom, I laid them on a shelf above my suits. Only problem was, they didn't dry there. I wonder if she pondered why her roomie gasped every morning as she got dressed? It sure wakes you up!
This February, I am again going to the Writing for the Soul conference in Denver, Colorado. Can you guess what is already packed in my suitcase? It's the little things that make life worthwhile!
Do you have a "small miracle" story that makes you laugh at yourself?