Am I Wearing Pants?

I started a new job about 3 months ago. Though the employer emphasizes flexible scheduling for their employees, the rule of thumb is more 8-4:30, with an emphasis on the 8am. This has been quite an adjustment for me for 2 reasons: 1) though I arise early every morning, I enjoy a morning workout before beginning my commute, which I've had to truncate each morning because 2) it takes longer for me to get to work now because I "park and ride".

When I get on the bus I am frequently not quite awake, even though I've driven about 3 miles to the park and ride site. One particularly bleary-eyed day, I was sitting in my usual spot (I suspect there will be a posting someday about the unwritten etiquette of public transportation) on a morning which I felt particularly chilly. A rather fetching young woman got on and, since the bus was full and chivalry is dead, she stood holding on to one of the handrails. I noticed that she was wearing a skirt - a knee-length straight skirt probably matching a blazer hidden underneath her winter coat. My thoughts, in the order they occurred:

1. Ooh, a skirt. It's pretty cold for that.
2. Oh my god, her legs are bare. No pantyhose? In this weather? That's got to be cold!
3. I wonder what this cold air (about 20 degrees that day) feels like on bare skin?
4. Does cold air go up the skirt? Of course not, you idiot! Cold air sinks. Warm air rises.
5. I don't feel my pants touching my legs.
6. Am I wearing pants?
7. [I rub my hand on my thigh to verify that I did, indeed, don pants this morning.]
8. These pants are too thin for this weather. I'm cold.
9. I should sort my pants in the closet so that all the thin ones are together, so I can remember not to wear them when it's cold.
10. I'm not wearing these pants again under 30 degrees!

Scary, eh? Later, as I was walking the 2 outdoor blocks from the bus stop to the door where I enter the skyway system, it occurred to me that, for the briefest moment, I found it plausible that I had gotten all the way to the bus without wearing pants. "How silly of me!" I thought.

I've had this story on my mind for a couple of months, only now am I writing it down. As I write I ponder why this story is sticking in my mind. What's the point? I need to sleep more? I'm exhausted? Is it the reason why I detest public transportation - for this never occurred while I was driving to work?

Why?!?

[An afterthought - this might be a fun party game. It's called "My thoughts, in the order that they happened". Probably best after a couple of mixed drinks. Everyone gets a turn.]

You Mean They Want to Get Rid of Autism!?

A conversation with my boys driving home from a school event one evening:

Me: Now remember that we have the Steps of Hope walk on Sunday morning.
Jackson: [whining voice] Aaarrrgghh!
Owen: What's that?
Me: Jack, I just wanted you to know that we'd be going out again this weekend. [Side note #1: we have to give the boys plenty of warning with changes to their regular schedules. Jackson, if at all possible, will not even change out of his pajamas on Sundays.] Owen - Steps of Hope is a charity walk for Autism Research. Remember? It's the one where we walk around Ridgedale mall.
Jackson: Research for what?
Me: Autism. You know, Asperger's syndrome is a form of Autism. [Side note #2: Katie just purchased a picture book about how cats have Asperger's syndrome, just like the boys. They've each read it and are aware they are Aspy's and are proud of it.] They are doing research to try and stop people from getting it.
Owen: You mean they want to get rid of Autism!? [There is anger and fear in his voice.]
Me: That's not what I ... [Lost in the din.]
Jackson: Why would they do that? There's nothing wrong with us.
Owen: Yeah, my brain is just wired differently.
Jackson: Yeah, our brains just work differently.
Me: Okay, guys, hold up a second.
Owen: You mean they want to get rid of us?
Jackson: Is that why we're all going to the same place on Sunday?
Me: No - dear God no. That's not it at all. Look - you guys are just fine. There are other kids with Autism. [I pause for a few seconds, trying to think of an example they won't twist for their own purposes.] Jack - think of your worst day ever.
Jackson: Okay. I'm thinking of one.
Me: Now imagine that every day is like that. Because that's what it's like for a lot of kids with Autism. Every day.
Owen: Whoa! Every day?
Jackson: Really?
Me: Yes, every day. The research will teach us how to teach them to make every day better.
Owen: You mean we're doing the walk for them?
Me: Yes, Owen, we're doing the walk for them.
Jackson: I suppose that's okay then. Can I bring my Gameboy?