Thank goodness for the freedom to look like Saturday morning. I chalk it up to arriving at a certain age when we realize that there are more important things than looking our best for a church meeting (among many occasions), and spending the time that would go into primping doing things that serve our minds and bodies more productively. Perhaps a few more minutes with the morning paper, an extra lap around the block, or finally writing that email to the friend we meant to write to weeks, or even months ago.
Looking like Saturday morning feels like something to celebrate rather than dread, and as I put shoes on to head out the door I think I won't worry about looking in the mirror to be sure that my hair is in place, or and I won't worry about the fact that I haven't bothered with earrings. There are other days when those things might matter to me. Today is not one of them.