I’m folding laundry before I go do the dishes. The twins are talking to each other in the kitchen as they throw their snacks at one another, falling into hapless fits of giggles at a joke only the two of them share.
A blonde blur whizzes by with one sandal and one shoe…both on the wrong feet. The door slams, only to be reopened by lighthearted laughter and running shoes down basement stairs.
I’m tired. I feel disconnected. I feel lost.
I constantly ask myself how the “everyday” gets to be every day. Going through the motions never seemed so cliche.
My husband arrives home with the usual smile, and brief moment of affection. Is it dinner time already…
He is swept up in the commotion before the screen door fully clicks.
I don’t recognize myself lately. My moods are unpredictable.
My hands seem foreign, especially when I run them through my hair and the strands fall like dust off a shelf…
…falling…
I catch myself at the margains of a blank page and scribble little notes…reminding myself to breathe…
I am overweight, I know without a doubt that it is affecting every aspect of my life. My skin shows the concern I hold for details.
This isn’t who I am…is it?
A portrait of “nothing’s wrong” dressed in creased lines and imitation laughter?
…is it?…look deeper…
