Uniform

Whew! The home stretch is in sight — 6 letters left, 5 after today.

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U is for Uniform, as in the one I wear to work.

I don’t think that I ever imagined myself saying this, but I like wearing a uniform to work. It saves me time.

Every morning a series of alarms keep me on track — the first to make sure I’m awake, then to give me time to journal, to read, to ponder, and to get ready for work. I report to work at 5 AM — so my first alarm goes off at 3:30 AM. [I just did some extensive research (i.e. – a quick google) to find out what time dairy farmers get up in the morning. 4 AM. Yes, I’m up before the dairy farmer.]

The least amount of time each morning goes to getting ready for work. It’s a done deal — a black shirt and stone-colored pants. I spend a minute or so trying to mask the circles under my eyes and less than 30 seconds “fixing” my hair. (My hair is hopeless. It can’t be fixed.)

It was cold yesterday morning. I wore my black hoodie that is embroidered with my organization’s logo.

And my stone-colored pants.

Usually I wear a black polo (embroidered with my organization’s logo) and stone-colored pants.

The other day I went for a walk on my break — wearing my black polo and stone-colored pants — and caught my toe on the uneven sidewalk. I fell all the way down.

Alllllll the waaaaay dooooooown. I could see the whole thing happening in slow motion.

I broke the fall with my hands (which are still bruised and painful) and skidded my right side into the soft grass and dirt beside the sidewalk. The mud ground in to the pants. Fortunately, the scrapes on my knees didn’t bleed through. Stone-colored pants don’t hide blood very well.

I turned around and walked the mile or so back to the gym.

Because we wear uniforms, we have a bag in the back room full of black shirts and stone-colored pants from employees who have moved on. I dug through it and found a pair of pants that would work.

Not my style, of course. A wide-leg pant. A little too long. But, hey, no mud from a fall.

So, I like uniforms.

I like not having to put too much brain power into the what-should-I-wear question.

I like that we (co-workers) share with each other.

I really like my black hoodie.

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I don’t like feeling used — but that’s probably not a story for a blog.

You know what I mean, though. The insincerity of being stepped on by another person.

Nope. Not for me.