Stream of Consciousness Day. Start with the sentence “This morning I looked in the mirror...” just write, don’t stop, don’t edit. Post!
This morning I looked in the mirror and saw a rumpled, overweight, middle-aged lady. I hate looking in that mirror. It sucks. I used to enjoy looking in the mirror. We have a lot of mirrors in our house. We are mirror lookers. I once had a full-length one in the bathroom where I lived and I really missed it when I moved away and couldn't take it with me. But lately? I hate seeing myself in the mirror. There was a while there when I'd catch my mirrored reflection and think it was my mother! That was freaky, considering she was still alive then. My mother was a beautiful woman, I should be happy that I look like her -- I look almost exactly like her, in fact. That's a little freaky, too, come to think of it!
The mirror I looked in this morning, in fact, belonged to my parents. It was in all of their houses, it appears in photos from long before I was born. It's a gorgeous mirror and everyone always remarks about it when they visit our house -- "Wow, what a beautiful mirror!" they exclaim. And it is, but it catches me as I'm walking by in the most unflattering poses. The pooch of my stomach (yeah, the dog lady just used the word "pooch") is mainly what bothers me the most. The gray hair next. I'm not a "wrinkle" person -- maybe I'm in denial, but I don't seem to have a lot of wrinkles, another trait I blessedly inherited from Mom. It's more the bod that bothers me and the way I dress lately, like a total slob, the fact that none of my clothes fit anymore may have a bearing on that reaction. Hey, maybe this exercise of writing about looking in the mirror will do some good. Maybe I'll go out and buy new clothes. But I know I won't. I have never been this heavy in my life, and I refuse to stay like this, so I keep refusing to buy clothes on the assumption I'm going to fit back into the old ones. ( I just wrote "new ones" and had to backspace and correct! but oops I'm not supposed to do that in this exercise!)
Wouldn't it be cool if the next time I look in the mirror, I'd see the 25-year-old me?
This morning I looked in the mirror and saw a rumpled, overweight, middle-aged lady. I hate looking in that mirror. It sucks. I used to enjoy looking in the mirror. We have a lot of mirrors in our house. We are mirror lookers. I once had a full-length one in the bathroom where I lived and I really missed it when I moved away and couldn't take it with me. But lately? I hate seeing myself in the mirror. There was a while there when I'd catch my mirrored reflection and think it was my mother! That was freaky, considering she was still alive then. My mother was a beautiful woman, I should be happy that I look like her -- I look almost exactly like her, in fact. That's a little freaky, too, come to think of it!
The mirror I looked in this morning, in fact, belonged to my parents. It was in all of their houses, it appears in photos from long before I was born. It's a gorgeous mirror and everyone always remarks about it when they visit our house -- "Wow, what a beautiful mirror!" they exclaim. And it is, but it catches me as I'm walking by in the most unflattering poses. The pooch of my stomach (yeah, the dog lady just used the word "pooch") is mainly what bothers me the most. The gray hair next. I'm not a "wrinkle" person -- maybe I'm in denial, but I don't seem to have a lot of wrinkles, another trait I blessedly inherited from Mom. It's more the bod that bothers me and the way I dress lately, like a total slob, the fact that none of my clothes fit anymore may have a bearing on that reaction. Hey, maybe this exercise of writing about looking in the mirror will do some good. Maybe I'll go out and buy new clothes. But I know I won't. I have never been this heavy in my life, and I refuse to stay like this, so I keep refusing to buy clothes on the assumption I'm going to fit back into the old ones. ( I just wrote "new ones" and had to backspace and correct! but oops I'm not supposed to do that in this exercise!)
Wouldn't it be cool if the next time I look in the mirror, I'd see the 25-year-old me?
Photo of my parents and the mirror, before I was born, ca. 1950s.
I have the mirror in my house, and also the painting of the cat that is reflected in the mirror!
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