Annika picks better clothes than I do

Today I got dressed like I was falling down stairs.

The alarm went off at 6, but I hit the snooze button a few times. At 6:27 I woke up and ran in to do my morning chores: put the dishes away, washed the dog dishes and gave her food and water (sprinkled all bran over the dog food as always), then ran down to take care of the cat. Lately Marcus has been very healthy. No throwing up anymore. Changed the litter, and gave him food and water. Ran upstairs and tossed the litter bag in the trash. This was all done in about 10 minutes. So now it is about 6:40. I brush my teeth and toss in some Listerine, which I leave in for about 3 minutes. So now I need to get dressed.

I go into our closet but my one pair of good jeans (32x36 Levis) is not there. Crap. Thinking quickly, I grab my light brown cords and a white turleneck. I never know what to wear with the cords. Come winter I will probably favor my black sweatershirt, but today I wanted something a little lighter. I didn't put on socks, because I like wearing my Chacos when it's nice outside, so I ran into the bathroom. My hair, as per my usual, was it's clean but slept on self. At this point in the day only holy water will fix my colics, but I threw some water on it--all in vain. "Fxxk it," I said. Into the kitchen I went, grabbed a small plastic containing the remains of last night's pasta, and I walked downstairs to go. I threw on my Chacos, and grabbed a hat out of the accessory box. (A pine chest we bought at Michaels and I stained to match our woodwork.) The hat, one with the Norwegian flag on it, is slightly ripped so one small side part of the brim kinda protrudes. I could fix it if I would find 5 minutes out of the 4 free hours I have every night. So here I am, heading out the door, wearing brown cords, a white turleneck, a blue Norwegian baseball cap, and sandals.

Honest to god, I said to myself, "I look like crap."

And I don't.

But it feels like I do.

Tonight I will endeavor to set out my clothes and feel less stressed about my appearance. A man who is 6'2" 175 pounds with blond hair and blue eyes, an athletic build, and a cheery disposition should not unnecessarily burden himself with poor clothing selection. It's not like I'm looking for female attention, but I'd like to limit the amount of retching I currently hear from the fairer sex.

Next up: My awful posture! Unless I want to end up looking like Quasimoto, I better straighten up. Not only will this prevent back problems, but when I stand properly I am about an inch taller.

http://cdn.llbean.com/products/mens/47507/images/M47507_Heritage_Khaki.jpg