This week, on Tuesday to be specific, I put on my gray MTR shirt. It was our first day back at school after several days of icy weather shut us down. I normally layer my clothes during the winter, always picking a t-shirt of some color to go with a button down shirt and sweater I wear over top of it. Color is of significant importance, but so is softness. Over the past nearly three years I've had my MTR shirt, it has gotten some pretty good wear and because of that, it's really comfortable.
When I happened to pick that shirt for the day, I didn't really think anything of it. As I pulled the shirt out of my drawer, I briefly thought of the wild ride that my first year in Memphis was, but quickly moved on to the issues of the present. I was prepared the craziness that only having school closed for the last five of six weekdays could bring.
I didn't know that I'd be receiving an important phone call later that afternoon. I didn't know that the shirt that I wore on my back, from an organizational tie that was two years in the past, would suddenly matter for the opposite reason I ever thought it could.
