One Moody Beholder
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." I am one moody beholder.
Tuesday I strutted my stuff in a red sleeveless turtleneck, pencil skirt, and heels. I was ogled and whistled at, and like Popeye's spinach, each one made my strut grow a little bigger, my smile a little wider. I was invincible. I could've flattened the earth with a look, I felt so strong. Even after washing my face and putting on pajamas, I felt glorious. The fact that I am alone meant nothing, because I was complete and strong in myself, and if some stupid guy couldn't see that, what did I care?
Today, I wore a sweater, jeans, and flip-flops, my hair pulled back. Objectively, I knew that I looked the same. But I didn't. I moped. I walked quickly and quietly, careful not to be in anyone's way. I barely spoke. And as I sit here in my pajamas again, my skin looks mottled, my hair blah, my tummy flabby. And yet, I know that nothing has changed since yesterday. I am exactly the same person, I weigh exactly the same, my hair is exactly the same. So why do I feel so gross?
Do I dress to fit my mood, or does my dress determine my mood? I would assume that it is the former, since I could dress in my "powerful" clothes every day if I wanted to, but I don't.
I need some attention. Not just ogling, but actual attention.
Or, maybe I need to not need attention. But I don't know how you get to that point. Probably by getting a lot of attention.
Let's hope I can get my mojo back for my second interview tomorrow.
Tuesday I strutted my stuff in a red sleeveless turtleneck, pencil skirt, and heels. I was ogled and whistled at, and like Popeye's spinach, each one made my strut grow a little bigger, my smile a little wider. I was invincible. I could've flattened the earth with a look, I felt so strong. Even after washing my face and putting on pajamas, I felt glorious. The fact that I am alone meant nothing, because I was complete and strong in myself, and if some stupid guy couldn't see that, what did I care?
Today, I wore a sweater, jeans, and flip-flops, my hair pulled back. Objectively, I knew that I looked the same. But I didn't. I moped. I walked quickly and quietly, careful not to be in anyone's way. I barely spoke. And as I sit here in my pajamas again, my skin looks mottled, my hair blah, my tummy flabby. And yet, I know that nothing has changed since yesterday. I am exactly the same person, I weigh exactly the same, my hair is exactly the same. So why do I feel so gross?
Do I dress to fit my mood, or does my dress determine my mood? I would assume that it is the former, since I could dress in my "powerful" clothes every day if I wanted to, but I don't.
I need some attention. Not just ogling, but actual attention.
Or, maybe I need to not need attention. But I don't know how you get to that point. Probably by getting a lot of attention.
Let's hope I can get my mojo back for my second interview tomorrow.