The confounding case of my confounded coats

I am easily cold. I explain my ability to be cold as “I start being cold in August and I stop being cold in August.” Which is especially amusing because my son is one of those kids who might wear shorts in February in Maine. I own five coats.

In the middle of winter, I leave my house in the morning and I’m freezing: chilled-to-the-marrow, world-weary ice-bound. And then I get to a client. And I wear my coat as I’m loading in my gear. And I take off my coat, get down to business, thaw out, finish up, pack out and… forget my coat. I’m so hot-blooded I’m roaring on to the next client, having completely forgotten that there was ever a moment in my life that I stuck my hands in my car’s heater vents just to defrost. I will in fact sometimes turn the AC to “LOW” for a couple of minutes after an appointment.

Why am I bewailing my affinity to lizards (they hibernate, wish I could) and spiders (yes, cold-blooded, and some hibernate)? Because I don’t want my clients to forget that they are any less human than me. Because I want you to remember that being sick, or cold, or in mourning after a loss, is going to be disorienting and disorganizing.

I’ve finally hit on a couple of solutions which might work. I ain’t wearing coats in to clients anymore – unpleasant, but effective. And I found a darling little BRIGHT BLUE suitcase when I go on walk-throughs with potential new clients: holds my contract case, my stepstool and my coat and it is IMPOSSIBLE to forget. Because I want you to know that there’s always some solution, usually not ideal, but serviceable.

The mysterious location of #5, my most recent acquisition, became clear on Saturday (3/2/2019) as my client playfully waited until my departure to point to it on her rack (last appointment 12/26/2018). I’m about 95% certain #2, my favorite, has been in a city beginning with E since November•    2017.