Uniformity

When I was in school (Catholic school) I wore a uniform. Blue pants or skirt and white shirt in grade school and a plaid skirt and white shirt in high school. I hated wearing a uniform. I didn't want to be like everyone else, I wanted to be an individual. So I tried to push the boundaries. I was out of uniform almost every day, not a lot but just enough to make me feel like I was being myself.

More often than not my little transgressions were not noticed. I rarely got in trouble for it. But I still felt like a rebel.

Now that I am older, I understand the value of uniforms. They are easy. You don't have to think about it, you just slip it on and go. I can't tell you how many times I would stand in my closet while I was working and throw reject after reject on the bed. Some days it took me an hour to get dressed. Not good, especially when your boss is a man who can't possibly understand.

I don't have the same worries now that I am home. I don't need to impress anyone. I'm not dressing for success, I'm dressing for comfort. My uniform consists of jeans, sweaters and t-shirts. And if I'm being honest, sweat pants.

But those sweat pants, however comfy they are, are not allowed to cross the threshold of my house. I swore I would never be that mom. I would not wear my sweats in public (unless I just left the gym and that rarely happens anymore). So I'll be in the house in sweats and even if I'm running out to the store for 10 minutes I have to put on my jeans. I just do.

Maybe there is still a little rebel in me.