This morning, as I’m about to leave home and find my big green chariot, I mull over what I need to wear in terms of outerwear.
The Indian Summer has finally left, and its become very crisp out in the universe.
Battling some very recently self-diagnosed osteoporosis (WEBmd really shouldn’t be giving this stuff away for free) I realize my brittle bones are going to need something to keep them warm.
As if on cue, the lady who sat right beside me, in a virtually empty upper train car at Aldershot has coughed in my direction.
Yes…they get that it’s cold, now please stop infecting me.
To know me is to know I have several coats, scarves, shoes, watches and accessories. Jacket selection isn’t as easy as one would think.
It also helps that in terms of social status, I’ve considered myself a THINK (terrifically happy, income, no kids) so affording these items is easy.
In my third closet (overspill from clothes) I see an item that catches my eye.
This black jacket.
It’s hard to take a decent selfie when the person beside you is sitting so close and trying to jump inside of your soul and become one of your personalities.
At first, when I see this jacket, it makes me smile.
It was THE jacket I wore for my first day of work at my new job, almost 11 months ago.
I can rarely remember people’s names (rest assured, if you are important to me, I will though) but I always remember my outfits, what I wore for certain occasions and how they made me feel.
Maybe there’s a correlation between my selective memory and amount of selfies taken.
Nah, that can’t be true.
I digress again.
My black jacket did remind me of that very first day.
I felt many things.
I was confident. Nervous. Excited. Proud. Terrified. Eager.
The positive feelings eventually outweighed the negative ones, as I was late for work because of a freight train delay 3 minutes out of the Hamilton station.
The element of foreshadow so eerie.
Anyway, whenever I switch to a different jacket, I always used to put money in the pockets in attempt to lessen the blow of the cold weather itself.
I stopped this practice once my dad figured me out.
Funny, he seemed to always know where any jacket of mine was located.
When I put on this jacket, I didn’t find money in it this morning.
I found something more special.
It was a couple of wrappers left over from samples.
Sample day Saturday at Starsky.
I remember that day vividly.
It was a Spring morning, one of those last days of the year where you hope to be rid of the winter jacket.
Sunny, but cold.
Just the slightest hint of warmer weather.
My mom and I hit the road early and went shopping at the outlet mall.
The Toronto Premium Outlet mall, that happens to be in Milton, Ontario.
Of course, there was fun and laughs.
We truly enjoyed each others’ company, especially when buying lots of things we didn’t need.
We decided to stop inside this Starsky store to pick up something ready made for my dad for dinner before having a late lunch.
We ate so many samples from the store, afterwards, neither of us felt hungry.
I look up, as the lady beside me on the train shakes my arm.
I turn over and she extends me some Kleenex.
I didn’t even realize I was crying.
Maybe she sat beside me for a reason.