Sunday, November 07, 2010

Invisible Nakedness

Last night before I went to bed I moved all our clocks back an hour like we're supposed to, set the alarm on my iphone, put on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt and snuggled up under the covers.  Being a true Southern girl, I don't tolerate cold weather very well and when the temperature drops below 60 I feel like I am in danger of getting frostbite on my delicate extremities.

On a typical night I will at some point shed my clothing in my sleep thanks to my current state of perimenopausal hell and the night sweats that go with it.  Then when I wake up in the morning, I'm freezing cold, shivering and angry at Jayson for removing my clothes while I slept.

Of course he will swear that he didn't do it and as I slowly begin to get more alert I will realize that once again I'd done it myself and just didn't remember.  But Jayson will continue to defend himself by saying something like, "I swear I didn't do it, I didn't even know you were naked!"  Which just pisses me off all over again.

The least he could do is say how miserable he was all night long because I was lying there all naked and sweaty but out of respect for my unpleasant hormonal state he laid awake all night long admiring the view and fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

But, no.  He didn't even know I was naked.

Of course this is all irrelevant since we're sleeping in different states right now but he'd better be using this time to practice his if-you're-miserable-I'm-miserable-too skills.

This reminds me of a recurring nightmare that I've had for just about as long as I can remember.  In my dream, I'm in grade school even though I'm whatever current age I happen to be.  So, I'm 40-something, I'm in grade school, I walk into my classroom late, of course, and I'm buck naked.  I'm not aware of my nudity until I walk into the room and I notice that everyone else has clothes on and I'm mortified to discover that I forgot to get dressed.  However, I don't seem to be mortified that I'm in my 40s and still in grade school.

I sit down at my desk and try to scrunch down in my seat to hide my lack of clothing, but this is a waste of time since the desk is tiny and I'm 40.  The teacher calls the class to order and all the little children sit quietly at their desks, ready to absorb knowledge like the little sponges they are.  I am so completely shocked, embarrassed and uncomfortable that I can't even concentrate.  I have an overwhelming urge to flee but when you're over 40 and naked, fleeing can be way more traumatizing that just sitting still.  No one wants to see that.

So I sit there, trying to hid behind my Big Chief tablet.  The teacher walks around the room handing out papers and when she gets to me I try to apologize for my offensive nakedness and she shushes me.  She shushes me!  My apology and my attempt to explain my accidental exhibition are more of a disruption than the exhibition itself.

There I sit, in second grade, 40 years old, in a birthday suit that's 2 sizes too big, and no one notices.  Which I just now realized seems to be a recurring theme for me.

All of that was supposed to be an introduction to me whining because I overslept this morning despite my efforts to adjust our clocks correctly.  Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, I had the mother of all nightmares complete with Satan's minions coming out of my broom closet and eating my family and friends zombie style.  But all that pales in comparison to my invisible nakedness which has effectively chipped away what was left of my self esteem.  So, I'm going to sit here and ponder that instead while periodically checking to make sure I have pants on because obviously no one would tell me or even notice if I didn't.

2 comments:

Wendy said...

Hormones, damn hormones. Off to dye my hair now to cover up the fact that I'm not aging and getting "bigger" and my pants don't fit.....

SkylersDad said...

Kathy and I have always been opposite temps. I sleep naked even in the winter, and she has a ton of clothes on.