JOURNAL

My husband had to pick up some papers for a client yesterday, and when he strolled by, putting the finishing touches on getting dressed, my quixotic look morphed into words, "You're dressing up to pick up some papers?" "You do realize," he answered, looking at me in the navy blue t-shirt and ripped sweatpants I've worn for two (three?) days straight, the sharp edge of sarcasm in his voice, "I'm wearing old jeans, old shoes and a button down shirt....