Mirror

I feel like the only way to start this post is to out myself as the queen of the Comic Book Nerd Kingdom, so I'm treading lightly on my analogies here. I don't think I'm ready for the blogosphere to truly grasp my inner geekdom.

I shall start from a different angle. 

My mirror is different every day. I mean that figuratively of course. The actual piece of glass that reflects back at me is the same. It's so much the same, that it has really needed to be cleaned for months.

Newsflash: I don't do mirrors. 

But I digress...

I might as well be Mystique, shape shifting my way through life with a new persona whenever I feel like it. It's basically how I feel when I see myself anyway. (Please, someone go get a mop. My nerdiness is getting all over the floor.)

 For the record, I also don't do floors. 

I am, in the theory, the same person every day. I am a hard worker, a devoted daughter, a loving wife, a spazzy wanna-be-blogger. But everyday I see someone different. 

Some days, I look in the mirror and instinctively reach for the glitter eye liner and then my backpack so I can make sure I get to school on time. I see a child who isn't old enough for all of this responsibility. I see high school me who acted way older than she was. She is now hiding in the corner and wondering why I wanted all of this so badly when my only responsibility was to be so young. I see the girl who is terrified of breaking the rules and getting into trouble. 

From this child, I have learned that if you're make the rules, you can break them all you want. For the most part though, if you set them, you don't want to break them. You made them for a reason. This is why I run my own business.

Other days, I look in the mirror and see someone far beyond her years. I forget about my 20s and I head directly into middle age. I'm begging for a vacation and for employees who complete all of the tasks that I give them. I spend entirely too much time thinking that if I want it done right, I should do it myself. I lay in bed and go through my work day making sure that I didn't leave anything out. I stare in the mirror at bags under my eyes and feel guilty that time for my marriage seems to be few and far between. I wonder where my youth went without realizing that I am most certainly still living it. 

From this adult, I am have to sometimes just throw the F-word into the wind and go get some damn cheese fries. 

Some days I see a body that I hate, and others I see a body that others would be jealous to have. Note that there is often about 30 seconds between the transition from love to hate and vice versa. I know that none of this is shocking. 

I am in this strange in between where some mornings I worry that I'm going to miss the school bus, and others I worry that I'm far too close to dentures for my own liking. I usually love the sound of neighborhood kids playing in the lot across the street, but sometimes hedge dangerously close to yelling at those damn kids to get off my lawn. I shape shift through my day, acting like an adult with adults while transforming into someone much more childlike for my patients or my nephew. I speak The Queens English at work while my house might as well be a truck stop. I desperately miss the freedom and access to friends that came with college life. I miss having roommates, but not enough that I would ever again consider having a roommate. Bitches be crazy. 

I'm a different me everyday. I think I like that about myself. That might change, though.

As always, it's hip to be square kids (or adults, or seniors, or infants or whoever I think I am that day).