Sweater vested

Not long ago, I was hanging out with a friend and her friend. We will now call them AF and HF.
AF knows me well enough to know that I really only wear about two different outfits. HF will come to know that soon enough, but really, it's a moment of realization I like to delay until people already know that I am awesome enough to compensate for wearing the same clothes all the time.

So on the second evening in the space of a few days I was to see AF and HF together, I called AF.

"This will sound like a strange question," I said, "but was I wearing my blue sweater on Friday?"
"Yes," she said.
"Thanks," I said, glad to know that I would be wearing the other outfit that evening.
"Not the one you always wear," she said, and I was momentarily stunned.
"Do I have another blue sweater?" I asked.
"Not the cardigan. This one's darker, and wool," she said.
I knew immediately what sweater she meant, and resolved to wear the blue sweater I do always wear.

I am sorry we are this far into this story and nothing interesting has happened. A heads-up: Nothing interesting will happen in the rest of it, either.

But I went to my room and looked at my sweaters, and realized that I don't have two blue sweaters. I have six. I tend only to wear the two frumpiest.

Morals of this story:

• I do too have something to wear.
• My already-limited fashion sense has gone to hell in the last year.
• I should make an effort to buy some non-blue sweaters, I guess.

This is not a moral of the story, but seemed worth sharing nonetheless:

• If someone had a business where they delivered Pop Tarts and Diet Coke to me in my office, they wouldn't get rich, but they'd get excellent tips, and they'd be making what I like to think of as a real difference in the world. Consider that.