Sock it to me

This Tuesday morning finds me still feeling quite rough around the edges. At least I slept last night. Nausea and flu like symptoms still lurking under my brave facade. Things to do, places to be, meals to cook and the usual Alpine laundry heap to be mountaineered every day.
I decided the other day, to clean out my overly massive walk in wardrobe.
It's full of thrift store buys, which have invaded my space, like ants on a seemingly innocent soda stain.
I managed to wade through socks and gave up sweaty ( oops that's not right! remember Miss Jean Brody, horses sweat, men perspire and ladies glow) glowing and irritable.
I never realised how many pairs of socks I had, it's quite ridiculous. I've been rotating the same few pairs for years, holey toes and heels, feeling quite sorry for myself as work boots rub off the pretty dragonflies my nail lady so patiently painted on, Only to find a plethora of "whole" new socks lurking in the bowels of my sock, junk, drawer.
The whole socks now have a new home in a pretty natural fibre basket, we'll see how long that lasts.
I have a love/hate relationship with my wardrobe. Every time I shop I love what I buy. Then I go to get dressed and find that I have nothing to wear. How can this be ? Clothes aplenty but never what I'm looking for. I would refer to it as a mid life crisis but heck I should be well over that kind of nonsense by now. I think perhaps that the image of me in my "shopping" mind bares no significance to my actual everyday life. I have bought around 8 really cute dresses with shoes to match recently, why?
Home from the ranch exhausted, glowing, stinking, with holey sock ankle ring marks ( you know when you've had your socks on all day, take them off and look down at the indents around your ankles, which in my case take hours to disappear, maybe I'm retaining fluid? shit) shower and think "oh why don't I slip into a little sexy frock" ankle indents and all.
What a load of codswallop!
Wow, there's a great word for you and one I've never used for years, just popped into my head right now. Amazing how even my addlepated brain can maintain it's resourcefulness and ping a retained word or phrase when you least expect it and most need it.
Oh anyway I'm away waffling again. What I need desperately are some comfy sweats and a snugly t-shirt. Do I possess such a thing? Nope. Do I think the same thing every single time I come back from the Ranch (which is approx 5 days a week) Yep. Why then do I walk past sweats and T's with an air of disdain right along to cutie tight tops, tight jeans and slinky frocks? .
Writing this has got me really thinking, a bit of self analysing going on. I'm a slob at work so I want to be a lady when I get home? I live my life in boots and jeans and don't want to exchange them for sweats and T's? Oh the complexity of the subconscious.
I have no intention of putting myself in Therapy only to find out I'm right, not me, I'm going to go and buy what I need not what I want, of course if I happen to see any nice frocks along the way...