I was going for comfort when I grabbed an “Ithaca is Gorges” T-shirt and cargo pants to wear this morning. While this is practically my wife’s uniform, the outfit felt so odd to me, I found myself in my room, changing clothes a couple of hours later. This laundry making experience made me realize that no one can label “comfort” for us. Whether a job, a relationship or a pair of pants, we are the only ones who can decide what (and who) puts us at ease.
What ( or who) makes you feel at ease?