I felt especially disheveled today. I like that word, disheveled. When I say it, I pronounce it correctly aloud – “di-shev-old”, but at the same time I sound it out in my head incorrectly – “dis-heave-old”.

I realized, in the early afternoon, what a state of dishevelment I was in after I noticed that my fly was open. I thought back, trying to figure out how long it had been unzipped, and realized that I must have had it down since leaving my apartment in the morning.

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