I was washing my face last night and had a very serious moment with myself. I gazed into my haggard reflection and wondered "How on earth did I get to this state of not good looking?". That may sound vain to you. But I am being kind when I say "not good looking". I am a mess I discovered. Between buying a house, having a baby, caring for said baby ( including these nights from hell that will not end) and moving I think I lost my Give-a-damn. I would really like to find it now though because I am wanting to return to the land of the living and this hot mess I have become just wont suffice. I refuse to look like I crawled out of a cave the first happy hour I attend. My poor sad grey roots are in full affect ( don't start with me, I have had them since I was 20 and I blame my mother and stress). The dark circles under my eyes are massive. I have never been one to really spend money or time on manicures, but I think that may be the only answer to these cracked, dry and neglected hands. I may or may not have a permanent hunchback. These pores are insane!!! Lately I am beginning to sound like Eeyore when I start a "why bother" tangent about my appearance ( sounding like Eeyore but looking like a deranged serial killer is an odd mix). The slippery slope of disheveled has become more and more treacherous and the task at hand is a bit much more than a one day recovery.
I'd like to think this has actually been a science experiment to see how far I can let myself go before I snap. Maybe it was ( I would like it to be past tense from here on out) just a test of will. Now I can make fun of myself and get back to normal. Toss on some coverup and chapstick when I check the mail as not to alienate the brand new neighbors. You know, little things. Baby steps.
I vow to stop this madness. I shall not remain the doppelganger of Charlize Theron's character in Monster. I will brush my hair. Going for walks outdoors is now mandatory. If I force myself out into public I will probably throw on something decent thus changing out of pajamas ( man is that an easy habit to form and a hard one to break).
Seeing now that I was starting to become "that mom" I apologize. Uggs, lounge pants and t-shirts with Super Mario on them are not a fashionable way to greet the cable guy. A baby is not the only accessory I own, and the sun should not hurt my eyes. Back to reality people. My bad indeed.