It finally feels like the first day of fall and so I pulled one of my cashmere sweaters from the back of the closet and put it on as I started getting ready for my VERY EARLY (9:30 am, for God's sake - so early, even for a grad student!) class. I've been dreaming of the day when it would be cool and crisp enough outside so I could finally wear this particular sweater. I bought it a few weeks ago but today, finally today, seemed like the perfect occasion for an outfit that included the said sweater.
Except that it is turning out to be itchy as hell. Here I am sitting at my desk and updating my blog in haste, while rolling up my sleeves and scratching my arms and elbows in glorious fury. I am being poked, nay, stabbed by the "delicate" threads of the beloved sweater and I am beginning to feel like I have a rash all over my body (upper body, to be exact).
So to address my sweater directly, in futile hopes of dissuading it of torturing me for the rest of the day (cause, damn it, it's still beautiful and I simply refuse to wear something else today):
I will first of all tell you that, surely, we will have many wonderful days this fall which you and I will look back on a few years from now with a smile. I am sure that after few washes in my apartment bulding's "state-of-the-art" washer/dryer system, you will soften up a bit and will no longer threaten to torture me with you machine-woven unpleasantries. Lastly, I am SURE that I will thank you many a times when it's cold outside and I have nothing but you on, that I indeed, have something other than a bra on to protect me from bitter cold. But for now, dear Sweater, I am rather frustrated and irritated by the way you deliberately decided to test just what color of red my skin can turn if I incessantly scratch it all throughout the day. Frankly, I find it rude and inconsiderate. And I know that I should have expected you to be a bit of a diva. After all, I did pick you up at The Limited "Not-On-Sale-But-Still-Terribly-Hip-Fall-2007-Collection"... After all you do make me look like a sophisticated, yet youthful grad student who drinks Cabarnet by day but is not above drink Natty Light either (sometimes one right after another)...
On second thought, yes, it's all my fault. I apologize, dear Sweater, and from now on I will shut my mouth and try to endure the pain and discomfort it takes to be ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL. Thanks, Sweater!!
Your BFF (at least until next fall's sweaters come out),