Damn it, hurry up!

Door carpenter person is stil here and has been for over three and a half hours. I am getting tetchy and it has occurred to me that I don’t like tradespeople.

Nothing to do with the inevitable reschedualing, turning up late, costing more, factors. Moreso that whilst they are in my house, I can’t get naked. I have very limited free time and when I am relaxing I like to be totally relaxed. That means I like to wander around with no clothes on and feel my skin breathe.

Don’t worry, I am not a hippie freak leftover. It’s just that I prefer being without clothes  and don’t have issues over my body, so I don’t care who sees it. I would not inflict my nudity on anybody else unwarned, however. I do have social boundaries.

Not that my body is that fantastic, more that I obviously have some sort of body disorder (the opposite of this one) that causes me to believe I look better than I do.

Last night I found out that the reverse BDD apparently also works as regards my height. I asked boyfriend if he minded me wearing three inch heels (he’s regular sized and I didn’t want to tower over him if he felt selfconscious). He looked puzzled and told me no and then wondered why I had asked. I explained, only to have him point that he’s five foot seven and I am five foot two. There is a natural height discrepancy there, in his favour, already.

Readers, I swear to you that I did not know. Well, yes, logically with numbers and shit I had to have known by just applying logic. But I pinky swear that I always thought we were the same height! I really did.

And then, last night, when he physically showed me the level of the top of my head as compared to his face, I had to accept it. But I still didn’t really believe it. He did throw me a sop, though, by saying that I always carried myself as if I was much taller.

I still don’t believe it. In my mind and my actions I am five foot seven. Really.

If I am that five foot two stressed, overworked, underloved, financially strapped short person, then my frame of mind can only be attributed to not being content with the life that I have. I think five foot seven means that I have quirky charm.

It’s obvious that the extra height gives me more body room and diffuses the essential strong seep out of my personality. I’d probably have to apologise for things a lot more if I was five foot two.

I’m forgiven a lot more as a more assertive, more taking-up-room-in-the-world sort of person. My personality is given more respect the larger it is. And vice versa, and so on, and ad infinitum, in an endless circle. Yeah, of course I’m five foot seven.

Legally? Well, as far as I am concerned I put down the height and weight I actually believe I am on official documents. If those officiating don’t believe me, well, it’s their problem. I haven’t weighed or measured myself in twenty years and I am certainly not bothering now.


I LOVE being five foot seven and having a hot body. I am so lucky.


About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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