Those of you who have followed this blog since it’s inception, know that I often write about medical appointments and/or health developments. Some of those posts were difficult to write. Living through those events was, at times, quite frightening. Today, though, I’d like to share a light-hearted fear—something that can be laughed at.
Some pertinent background information:
- I am not a gamer, but my fiancé is. It’s through his interest in gaming that I was introduced to Rust.
- Rust is an online, multi-player video game. It is set in a post-apocalyptic world, in which survival is neither easy nor guaranteed. In Rust, players must scavenge for food, weapons, and clothing. Players make their own outfits from the various materials that they find (i.e. wooden barrels, metal buckets). Occasionally, players discover hazmat suits—which are helpful in high-radiation zones. It is the end of the world, after all.
So, what does any of this have to do with me? It has come to my attention that every time I carry a letter out to the mailbox—in the wee hours of the morning—I am dressed like a character from Rust. My outfit does not adhere to any fashion standards…it’s just a quick ensemble, pieced together to survive the cold.
I don’t bother getting properly dressed to put mail in the mailbox. Instead, I throw my thick, winter coat on, over my pajamas:
My coat is respectable enough, but the pajama pants that I wear with it, vary from silky black material, to Christmas-themed, to gray with pink, dark gray, and white polka-dots.
I wear snow boots.
This ensemble is topped off with a Star Wars hat:
Every time I open that front door, I pray for three things:
- Dear God, please keep Alderaan (our cat) upstairs where he is safe. Dear God, you know my heart will shatter if he sneaks outside and becomes a road pancake.
- Dear God, please do not let me fall.
- Dear God, please don’t let anyone take a picture of me.
The road we live on is well-traveled, and I am afraid that one of these days, a commuter is going to snap a picture of me with their cellphone. I’m dressed so ridiculously in the morning, that I feel as though the picture would go viral—especially if it’s marketed creatively:
Woman believes she lives in Rust.
Woman dressed to scavenge, bust geodes, and build her base.
Woman in Rust wears a surgical mask—it’s the end of the world!
Clearly, my marketing skills are a bit rusty. Pun intended.
I’m not actually afraid of having my picture taken; in fact, I find this “fear” to be rather amusing. It is so insignificant compared to other fears that have plagued me in the past! And, sometimes, it just feels good to laugh at the workings of my own imagination.
Thank you, Dear Readers, for visiting Of Perras & Pieridae today. I hope the description of my morning, Rust-like, attire makes you smile.
With Love and Gratitude,