Weird Wool Wednesday: Clothes’ language

Remember that time when I wore my yellow cardi on purpose so it would make my face all pale and green? Because the doctor could do with a visual reminder while I went all excited engineer on him about my illness?

Well, today I need to look ill again:

Today I’m visiting the Insomnia Clinic and a psychologist will assess wether I’m sufficiently tired during the day to make my case worth their time. If so I get to see the neurologist.
I need my yellow cardigan to dampen my excitement and my corticosteroid high.

But the doctor will also be on the look out for signs of worry, stress and depression.
Because those play a major role in most insomnia cases. If they don’t cause the insomnia itself they’ll certainly worsen it.
My insomnia is either genetically caused (inherited neurotransmitter party mix) or because of sleep apnea. I have no worries about laying awake. But I am worried he won’t believe me.

So that’s why today my clothes need to speak for me.
I need to look calm, receptive and not depressed. While tired.
Now there’s a challenge!

The questionnaire I had to fill out revealed that this package will be judged by its cover: “Do you pay less attention to your appearance since your insomnia?”
I don’t know, I wear what I want. I just wear what’s fun and practical and wool.
How does a sane woman of 42 years old dress nowadays?
No, the right question is: what does a sane 42 year old have to wear to be perceived normal?

I felt I had to counter the yellow cardigan somewhat. And that it’d be smart to tone down the Happy Go Knitting vibe. Not everybody can see past the woolies, not even psycho-experts.
So I’m not wearing knitted headwear or happy legwarmers or funny skirt with foxes. Not outside of the car anyways.

Today my sickening yellow cardigan will be worn by a smart, optimistic lady:



  • Curse the white cat that I found sleeping on my dress this morning!
  • I’m glad I’m wearing my yellow cardi. Wool is comforting. The shrink knows.
  • I spend some time snipping away the pills on it. I know pilling looks unkempt to non-knitters. I hope he doesn’t notice the stains…

my wardrobe was successful, the psychologist took me serious and send me on to the neurologist. Next week I’ll participate in sleep registration.
They both did warn me though: as I’ve had this sleep pattern all my life they don’t think I’ll be able to change it. But the quality of the sleep might be improved.


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