I accidentally dyed myself blue today.

What is it about this color – which is a world of colors, of course – and its relationship to mistakes lately?

First, in my endless brilliance, this evening I thought it would be a good idea to re-navy a cotton skirt, which had accidentally gotten partially bleached during lockdowns after I tried to follow pandemic cleaning protocols, and then rinse it by hand.

Then, without checking its fragrance first, I liberally applied a new container of generic saxe-blue dish detergent whose perfume was almost violently tacky. Like a 1984 nursing home toilet refresher tablet that barreled to the present day at the speed of light for no other purpose than to punch you in the face for some unspecified and long-forgotten error of early youth. I should have been more excited to visit with the great aunts and great uncles. I confess! I apologize! I surrender, one might respond.

It feels like a theme.

But as a person who the world seems to be forcing to be on track today, I’m choosing to feel grateful for such gentle nudges. I can only hope and do ask that, so long as I deserve them, they keep coming my way. As a blue person.