Thursday, June 8, 2017

Love is blind. Or is it?

As quickly as that rare and blissful moment came of waking up due to my own body's natural inclination, it vanished. 7:02am!!!??? My meeting started 2 minutes ago. I jumped out of bed just as Matt walked back into our bedroom, exasperated, "I have to shower and leave, ASAP! I am going to miss the whole meeting, and I really needed to make it to this one."

Unphased by my {more common than I'd like to admit} hysterics, he replies, "Why is this one so important?"  

"I was supposed to introduce Botox migraine treatments to my partners!"

"Oh. Well just don't shower then."

What?? Don't shower? I mean, don't get me wrong. I have been known to push that a bit longer than I should. I still blame the swimming days for my severe aversion to getting wet. But, I was at the pool all day yesterday. In fact, we even went twice! {And now you're questioning that whole aversion to getting wet statement. Yeah. It doesn't make total sense, but I can tell you this; I rarely get in the pool. I'm mostly just observing small children while getting a bit of sun, and feeling free.} I can't possibly skip out on this today, can I?

So, I start in with all the excuses. I was at the pool. My hair is greasy. I haven't washed my face. I have to be in small rooms with patients. Near them, touching them, they can smell me. He just stands there, and says, "seriously, Erin, you look fine."

I'm just not buying it. God love him, that man always thinks I look "fine". I think I look like a supermodel, he says I look "fine". I think I look like a ragamuffin, he says I look "fine". I spend an hour on hair and make-up. Fine. I go for a run on my 3rd day without a shower, and, well, beyond fine...if I'm in active wear, he's trying to grab my a$$. I simply cannot trust his judgment when it comes to my looks. And, honestly, as much as this is a put down to myself, I'm not real sure about his taste in general...ask him his celebrity crush picks. Thumbs down. He even liked "10 Things I Hate About You" Julia Stiles. What? Puke. She's got some kind of weird moon face. (No offense Julia. Mwah.)

"Matt, you always think I look fine. Love is blind. And that's great, and it really works out well for me, and it's something I'm so glad we have, but, sorry, I just don't believe you."

"Well, just know I have nothing to gain by telling you this. I don't care what you do, but I think you can go to the meeting without showering."

With that, we part ways. I'm sold...let's face it, I'll take any excuse not to shower. I throw on some clothes. Bobby pin my hair. Throw it in a messy bun, in that oh so basic attempt to make my slovenliness appear intentional. Dash out the door. Show up late to my meeting, and...

...I am greeted by smiles. What!? No one is holding their nose or vomiting in their mouths from my filth!? What's wrong with these people? Can't they see I didn't shower this morning!? Am I taking crazy pills? Was Matt, god forbid it, RIGHT!??? Stay calm, Erin. Stay calm. Present your Botox, and just go with it. Maybe he called them ahead and warned them about my appearance: "Hey guys, Erin looks pretty awful today. It's bad. I'm worried about her. Can you please just not say anything? And also, just try to hide your disgust when she walks in the room? K. Thx"

The meeting went as usual. I got to the office. I walk into my first patient's room, yet again, late. I apologize for my tardiness, and she looks up at me for a moment and says,

"Well. You just look too pretty to be seeing patients today."

Huh. I guess he really was right, after all. Maybe love isn't all that blind. Maybe love sees everything. Guess, I'm going to be googling pictures of Julia Stiles later...