Wednesday’s Child

How can I possibly be a Wednesday’s Child. Full of woe? Me? That makes me sad just thinking about it. Of course they try to put a nice spin on it:
You are a serious person, and try to change things that seem unfair. You make the world a better place! That just means I get pissed off when people cut in front of me in line or on the freeway or when someone gets more a bigger piece of cake, because really it’s just not fair! Man this sucks! If I had come just a little bit earlier I could have been Tuesday’s child, full of grace, having many talents, and are fun to be around. You dance through life! But no I was a procrastinator and now have no coordination or rhythm and make a horrible cheerleader. Sad. It’s not like I can turn the clock back now. But then again I could just start celebrating my birthday a day early and maybe I would get the late bloomers grace? Maybe?

So right now I’m staying with my friend Emily (she’s probably a Monday’s Child- but I don’t know for sure) and yesterday we decided to brave the rain and go to Whole Foods. So we get about one block and it occurs to me what I’m wearing. A pair of black and white swirly rain boots, a green skirt, a brown shirt, a navy blue wind breaker/rain jacket, an orange backpack, a black and white polked dot purse and an almost turquoise umbrella. Not that I’m particularly fashionable in the first place, but realizing I left the house in such an outfit without so much as blinking an eye makes me worry. Just a little. It’s not like I’m four and wearing all of my favorite things. At some point I was trying to put and outfit together and then I just got off course with functionality of it all (there were a few favorites in there- but still). Of course I’m the same person who wants to buy a zip up Washington DC sweatshirt of the side of the road.
So there we were checking out, and there was this nice, attractive man in front of me – he only had a quart of milk. And he commented that I had about enough food for a week. He probably thinks I do my shopping every Monday. Point being, even though I put away the umbrella and took off the jacket, I still don’t think I was wearing and outfit to meet my husband to be in. (Yes he was married I checked, and how cute is it he stopped by the store on his way home (in the rain) to pick up a bit of milk for his wife at home). He was just so charming in those few minutes that you just wanted to ask him how he met his wife and were one should be hanging out to find such a catch. Of course he could probably see that I was a Wednesday Child and thus too full of woe, so there was little point in directing me to the ultra charming because my woefulness would just bring him down. And really charmers look out for each other and don’t reveal to the woeful the secret perfect husband hangout.

Perhaps my lack of color coordination shouldn’t come as a surprise, it turns out I’m also the kind of person who not only leaves an Oreo in the pocket of a sweater but can actually pack that sweater and not realize there’s been an Oreo in until I’m wearing it on my way to work and realize there is no place to throw the Oreo away so I have to put the Oreo back in my pocket.

What Child Am I?