The day went on normally. Did some chores, did some work, and nothing odd happened, but I was sure something was going to. Didn’t have a feeling of foreboding exactly – it was more like being out of key.
During the morning, Susy was running a nasty job duplicating a program to 25 VHS tapes. Remember those? Getting “ancient” obsolete equipment to perform productive work can turn an otherwise nice day into an off-key one, but even after Susy successfully completed and packaged the tapes, the vague, uncomfortable feeling that something was “off” didn’t go away.
Minor problems – a disc drive got choked up with too many files and had to be de-cluttered; I couldn’t find a register on Quickbooks; we ran out of milk. In other words, a perfectly normal day. But not quite. Something didn’t feel right.
When it was time for Jeopardy, daughter Gretchen came over from next door and joined granddaughter Arden (nee Gwendolyn), my son Matthew and me. We watched IBM’s supercomputer Watson do a final clobbering of his human victims, and then we watched American Idol, with me all the while squirming uneasily.
It wasn’t till the end of the evening when I went up to get ready for bed, that I had the revelation. Yes, there certainly WAS something wrong. It wasn’t my imagination. It was a wardrobe malfunction. I had spent the whole day with my pants on backwards.
I hope nobody noticed.