Happy Pants

I screwed up.

It's not like end of the world or someone's life is in jeopardy kind of screw up, but it does impact the people with whom I work.  These people work hard.  They do a thankless job.  They're stressed enough and they surely don't need my screw up to add to their woes.  Alas!  I screwed up.  I am trying to make it right and I spent a lot of time muttering to myself last night, "I forgive myself.  I forgive myself.  I forgive myself."
In my defense, I was acting in the best knowledge I was given at the time.  Had I not been ignorant of some developments, I would not have made the same choice.  *I forgive myself*

I also had a horrendous day with some young men who were rude, disobedient and unruly.  I spent a lot of time last night mulling over how to handle the situation today.  Again, I forgive myself for how I handled it yesterday.*I forgive myself*  We all have those moments sometimes where no matter what you try to do, it's just not right.  It simply won't make it better.  She goin' down and Jose` no swim!  I spent so much time that I should have been sleeping coming up with a plan of how to address this situation and make it better for everybody.  *I forgive myself* that I didn't sleep.

So what do you do in those moments after sleep's blissful albeit tardy arrival gives way to the obnoxious and sudden alarm clock that rips you out of sleep's tender yet short-lived embrace?

You don your happy pants and suck it up.

Today I busted out my best ever hippie-dippy happy pants.  I bought them in Missoula, Montana.  Anyone who has been in Missoula, Montana is already formulating a picture of these pants with nothing more than the knowledge that they came from Missoula, Montana.  It's like some bad B horror movie title about hippie zombies that smell of decaying patchouli.

Anyway, the happy pants in question are green overalls with 6" cuffs at the pant leg that are about four different patterns of fabrics that my grandmother would have used to make my patchwork quilt.  The same mismatched patterned fabric adorns the pockets and the big chest pocket on the front.  These pants make it utterly impossible to take yourself too seriously.  I love them.  I also received a compliment before 8am on them.  Later, a co-worker said I looked like St. Patrick's Day.  My happy pants are just that rad thank you.  While some people use the phrase "happy pants" figuratively, I have taken it to a literal level.

So here's to the hippie-dippy happy pants!  Long may they reign and thanks for getting me through this Wednesday.

*I forgive myself*