Tuesday

7 Jan

It was a Holy Shit when I saw myself in the mirror kind of morning. One of those where I wondered, how? Just how? Last night was uneventful. Aside from B talking to our pillow then flinging it back to knock a wine glass off the table. He was not drunk, maybe a little, but he is always mildly clumsy if there is something tinted around to be spilled on an expensive rug or an electronic device. Which is why we don’t have expensive rugs and have had to replace many remotes.

My period humbles me each month, reminding me of Adam and Eve. How he must have loved her. The way my Adam loves me. Blinded by it or terrified of hormones, he looks past the 90’s sweats, the uncontrollable hair and says, “you don’t look terrible.” I close the door to try to get my body on board with the day. There is much to be done.

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