Smurf Ninjas, Panera, & Lessons in Sleepwalking

My body is blissfully unaware of any actual time schedule. It knows the sun and the moon, and it knows them well. Sometimes we pull the day shift, others the night… and sometimes I have been known to sleep walk between the two.

One such instance was this morning. I crawled out of bed sometime around noon after having been up most of the night, and made my way a few doors down to my usual lunch spot, Panera Bread. For anyone at home that is thinking of chastising me for eating at a chain restaurant… a giant middle finger to you. I love chain restaurants, mainly because most have a standard of excellence. However high or low they may set the bar, it’s been set regardless. So you always know what you are going to get. And I don’t mind that. I am after all like every other human a creature of habit. It’s when I veer from that habit that the Rainman-ness of my day gets thrown for a loop. This is one of those stories.

I rolled out of bed, and proceeded to search for my signature “Lil Ninja Jenn” uniform as my makeup artist Amy has come to describe it. In short, it is an all black track suit. There’s nothing about it that draws attention to it, no crazy neon trim or letting across the ass of the pants to tell people just how “Juicy” my ass has gotten since the last time I worked out. It makes me feel surprisingly strong, stealth, and dare I say it.. sexy… to the point I’m beginning to think I actually have a chance to be cast as the next Lara Croft, or some other gratuitous booby ridden action movie that is NOT classified as porn. I should note I own about 10 pairs of these pants and various formfitting tank tops. I should also note that it has been about two weeks since I have had a chance to pick up my laundry, or drop of the next load of dankness which means two things: I had run out of my signature Ninja Jenn outfits. And 2… If I didn’t claim my laundry in the next day or so, there would be some foreigner going through my unmentionables laughing at the pair of Victoria’s Secret underwear I own with the phrase “IMPRESS ME” emblazoned on the front of my hoohah.

Sadly, with no ninja outfits, I reach for my dark blue tracksuit. It’s not nearly as awesome as any of my black ones, and to be honest, I find quite obnoxious due to the fact it has sequins all across the bust. Sure, I could search for something that with some semblance of an outfit, but damn it.. I’m hungry and need to feed myself before I turn into a diva from one of those snicker commercials. So, I pull on my rap stars girlfriend meets high school dance team ensemble.. and walk right out the door.

Panera is only a few doors down, so I really don’t see the necessity to put myself together. Honestly, they are just lucky I brush my teeth before I go down there, that is how entirely lazy I am. From the moment I walk in, I sense that something is oddly different. For one, babies that had been crying suddenly stopped, and actually looked up at me and smiled. I shrug.. eh.. kids love me. And though Panera’s target demographic is typically limited to people who only have enough teeth to eat soup or large quantities of macaroni and cheese (read… babies and old people), there were a surprising number of decent looking younger guys there this particular morning. Clearly Steven’s has to be in summer session. God bless them.

The table of guys I walk past stare at me, but more of a mouth wide open stare. Hot damn, I think to myself.. I’ve still got it even with no makeup on, and in this awful tracksuit. It wasn’t until I walked up to the cashier to place my order I got the sense that something was terribly wrong.

“Um… Jenn.. you have something on your face.”

“What?”

She does like a hand wiping gesture in front of her face, and hands me a reflective mixer cup that was by her register. I pull up the cup into a makeshift mirror to see what the fuss was about.

The image that looked back at me… was Smurfette.. meets Braveheart… meets avatar.

So preoccupied with getting myself fed, and so thrown from my usual OCD game, I had forgotten to take off my facemask before I left the house. Luckily for me, I didn’t leave home without my sense of humor. So I casually mentioned I may or may not be shooting a Smurf live action movie, I was dressed in head to toe blue. I took my Sierra Turkey (no onion) sandwich and what was left of my dignity “To Go”… and went home.

For those of you that read my blogs, hoping for some enlightenment… on this one.. I’ve got nothing.

Actually wait… that’s not true. Even the best of us can get thrown off our game from time to time. Just gotta learn to roll with the punches... the moral of this story is.. don’t brush your teeth in the dark.

Now if you’ll excuse me.. I need to go pick up my laundry.