Yesterday I had to go to the doctor. I was pretty anxious, not just about my health but about the whole outing. I would have to drive there, avoid the soul crushing apocalypse on the streets, park, run the car guard gauntlet, have my temperature checked and what if it is higher than my usual on the dot 35.5, be super careful about not touching anything, get stressed out by OTHER PEOPLE, and not least, find something decent to wear.
Never mind the possibility of bad news.
We have been at home for almost a year. Every day I wear either my blue shorts or my floral shorts. They’re both great shorts, in case you think I am a slob, Italian, but – I wear them almost daily. I alternate tee shirts, Cotton On or Mr Price, and I either put on Birkenstocks or Salomon walking shoes.
That’s it. I have no need to wear any of my pretty clothes anymore. I work (watch TV) on the couch at home, I never wear pants for Zoom and I walk everywhere, keeping things casual, small and pandemic friendly.
So going out to the doc felt like a big deal and choosing something to wear an even bigger one. I thought it wasn’t a good idea to wear shorts in case I was given ‘bad news’ and I should try look decent in distress, but the thought of putting on actual clothing exhausted me.
My shorts have become an extension of me. I wake up, brush my teeth, make coffee, pat the dog, sometimes shower, reach for my shorts…
In the end I settled on good underwear because that’s what my mother would’ve suggested, together with the floral shorts because the blue pair have a hole in them. Sitting in the waiting room, in the middle of a pandemic, made me realise everyone is wearing shorts.
Mine are just a little more worn than theirs.
I did not have a medical emergency. The doctor reminded me I have a recurring ear problem and I am seeing him so he can fix it. That is his job. I told him I was a bit neurotic about my health. He told me I reminded him of Nora Ephron.
I love Nora Ephron. I came home, took off my good underwear, and googled her thinking I would watch a Nora Ephron movie.
The last play she wrote before she died was called ‘Love, Loss and What I Wore.’
It gave me a name for the new writing site that I am putting together..
One of the pages will be called Love, Loss and What I Used To Wear.
I hope you read it!