Dissolving a long term relationship and starting over in your mid-thirties does weird shit to your psyche.
Today's bus commute home mostly involved sitting still in a glinting vehicular sea of day-game Tigers traffic - the American pastime apparently being to drive exhausted office workers longing for the quiet of home to the brink of suicide for the sake of something to do while they wait for traffic to move forward another half-inch. Staring absently out the window - an occupation in which I decidedly revel as part of my public transportation commuter lifestyle - I caught my reflection in the window of a neighboring SUV. The convex pane of glass, presumably just to be cruel, gave my mouth the appearance of jowls.
And I panicked. Yanking out my phone I stared at my mouth in the reflection and started poking at my face thinking,
Shit I need to stop frowning so much.
Oh my god I'm turning into Jon Voight.
The person who someday falls in love with me will never know me looking young. No one will get to love me while I'm still pretty. Shit shit shit.
About half a minute later I was kindly telling myself that millions of women look gorgeous into their 90s and I have many years before I turn into Jon Voight.
But still. I'm smiling a lot just to ease my face muscles, knowing full well it won't do a goddamn thing.
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