Saturn returned to bite me in the ass.
I vaguely remember rolling over in the night and thinking, “Did I just hear/feel a tear?” but since I also manage to work things like car alarms right into conversations (as noises humans make) in dreams, I guess I did not think much of it.
And then I woke up to find like an 7-inch tear across the bottom of my favorite, oldest sleeping shorts, which I or my mom must have purchased at Old Navy about a decade ago. They have hearts and arrows on them! At some point overnight, the weak edge above the front hem just gave out as I sleep-maneuvered… and then the tear turned up the front. So what I really woke up to was like an easy access pajama flap on one side of the front of my shorts. Not salvageable and not worth sewing, because really, the seams on these shorts were about the disintegrate in the way that only 10-year-old Old Navy cotton can.
Let the quest for new shorts begin!
PS, I saved the defective flap. Weird?
PPS, Yesterday and today, my hair has moved into Mrs. Harrison territory. That’s my third grade teacher. I think she was like 65 when I had her.