The perks of insanity

I saw a man crossing the street downtown today. OK, to be fair, I see lots of men cross the street on any given day. This one, however, caught my attention because he was wearing green tiedie shorts that were several sizes too small and a woman's shirt with black and white vertical stripes accented with a red diagonal stripe, commonly seen in the 80's. His hair was askew, his beard long and natty. He was being helped across the street by a lovely, sane-looking woman.

And what should go through my head at that moment, other than the fact that I think I once owned a shirt like that? "Wow, it must be so liberating to be insane. You can wear anything you want and still get walked across the street by a pretty girl. I wear mismatched socks one day and get ridiculed by my peers."

I'm thinking about setting new expectations at work tomorrow by showing up unwashed in my pajamas. What do you think?