I had the triple play of rejection. I was stood up by the
guy that I called after my garage motor was smoking (at least some part of me
is still “smoking”), the lawn guy and the carpet cleaner I hired after the
aging Corgi let loose on the only nice rug left in this house. Thank goodness I
have a good sense of “self” and can handle dejection…although I did dip into
the Costco dark chocolate caramels for a little comforting. In the meantime I
am freaking out because there are signs I am quickly morphing into my Mother. I
am quickly cleaning up the house so the person I have coming to help me clean
thinks I am one of those moms who doesn’t have dust bunnies with a permanent
zip code lurking behind the dryer, a bin full of mismatched socks or something
that looks like a science experiment lurking in the fruit door of the fridge.
I’m a Mom, daughter, friend, lover of all baked goods, in constant search of my car keys, a working remote, cell phone charger and short term memory who has survived everything from divorce to cancer with a sense of humor, red wine and comfortable shoes (heels can make you cranky.)
Speaking of morphing into your Mother. I too clean the house before my friend who cleans my house comes to clean. And I actually ironed the pillow cases the other night because they were so wrinkled when I finally got to take them out of the dryer.
ReplyDeleteMy Mom's license plate was spelled Marlyn for Marilyn. So whenever I do something that reminds my husband of my mother he calls me Marlyn. I have noticed that the older I get the more Marlynisms I develop. Imprinting is alive and well.