Today was the first day of winter term. I meant to get up early, eat a good breakfast, and get to school early, but of course I ended up doing none of those things.
What I DID do was eat half a bowl of cereal, put up my hair with an ugly pen found in the bathroom, and dash out the door two minutes late.
My first class was a Journalism class, in which I was told that some of my assignments will involve blogging. Yay! But anyway. About halfway through class I suddenly thought, “did I put on my head covering this morning?”
I patted my head.
It was bare.
Oh dear. Oh dear dear dear. Ten minutes after Journalism class was Oral Interpretation class, where I was pretty sure five or six other people would know me from theater. Normally in a situation like this I would just put on my hood, but I did not wear a hood today.
I looked at my purse, a black denim one I made about five years ago. Could I cut it into a sort of bandanna shape? I was wearing a cream sweater under my blue sweater, could I cut off the bottom band of my sweater and tie it onto my head?
I decided that sweater would be more tie-able than denim. As soon as class ended I zipped off to the library. “May I borrow a pair of scissors?” I sweetly asked the librarian.
The librarian nodded.
Of course slicing up your clothing in a crowded library is an awkward business, but I was afraid if I took it upstairs to the woman’s bathroom the librarians would think I was a vile scissors thief. So I slipped into the alcove where the copier is kept.
Please, please don’t let anyone come in to make a copy.
Cutting fabric is hard when the fabric is still on your person. Because, you know, some parts of it are behind you, and when you try to cut with your left hand the scissors doesn’t work, and it’s not designed to cut fabric in the first place, and you have to lift up the blue sweater to get to the cream sweater anyway.
In the middle of this awkwardness, someone came into the copy alcove. I glanced over to make sure she was female, and then tried to ignore her in the hopes that she’d ignore me too.
She did. For a bit. Then she said, “excuse me, do you know how to use the copy machine?”
I didn’t, so she went to get a librarian’s help. I frantically hacked away at my sweater, convinced that the librarians were going to come in and see me and tell me that there was a library policy that library scissors could not be used to cut up a person’s clothing.
But the librarians never came, and I successfully removed the bottom band of my sweater and tied it around my head. Then I took a selfie and posted it to facebook.
As soon as it was posted I had a sudden thought:
I’M SUPPOSED TO BE IN MY NEXT CLASS!!
So I hurried to class, where one of my friends said, “look at you! You’re so cute. Even your pen matches.”
So I guess the sweater head-covering improvisation was successful.