An attitude adjustment.
. . .
Hi there. It’s SnapDragon. Remember me?
January has almost passed us by, and I feel especially unfulfilled as an artist.
I feel . . . heavy, even though I’ve lost all the baby weight.
I feel . . . an odd mix of mindfulness and dissatisfaction at all that remains undone.
I’m here, but also there.
. . .
It’s really quite weird to be middle-aged. I think of the “older” people I’d hear, laughing about crow’s feet and mom jeans. And. . . here I am.
High school was almost 20 years ago now. Twenty years. Yet I feel like I could just step back in time, and go through the lunch line without a hitch.
Chocolate milk and a cheese sub. (Did it come with a side? Surely it did, even for $1.60. Growing bodies, yo. What a bargain.)
Even though I’m just over five feet tall, I think my days of getting carded are officially over. There’s no mistaking the life lived on this face now. These hips, these hands. These coffee-stained teeth. The hopefully-amusing cynicisms I toss out in public.
I’m in a different phase of my life now.
And it’s okay.
It has to be; there is no alternative.
. . .
We lost our dear cat Henry this month. He was a special guy, a sweetheart.
He had a good run: so many snuggles, so much comfort and companionship over the near-decade we had him.
I still see him everywhere in the house. I can hear his curious little chirping. I still find tufts of his magnificent white fur ground into my sweaters.
But now he’s just gone.
. . .
I sit here in the driver’s seat, watching the icy drops stick to the windshield.
I enjoy the warmth of the engine’s heat as my children snooze and chew on grilled cheese.
We change over the years, but then again, not really.
I think that maybe the versions we are today have always sort of been there, waiting to be discovered.
I’m her and this and she.
Who are you?
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer who aims to enjoy her friendships.
Follow Snippets of SnapDragon for this and that and whatever. Maybe she’ll get back in the swing of things soon.
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