Reddened eyes stare back at me from the mirror. Pale glare from industrial lights accentuates my weariness. My child’s disrupted sleep disrupted mine. Finding responses more eloquent than grunts challenging. Evening now descends, sunlight reflected from the building across the way. The excessive caffeine coursing my veins somewhat obliterates my fatigue while adding a strange, surreal quality. Which combined with a demanding bladder adds to this unfocused day. Hard to point to accomplishments, yet they exist. Simply put, an unfocused and distracted day. One nicely viewed from the rear-view mirror of life.
Driving along in Kirkland , home of the modern yuppie, I’m passed by a new Mercedes. Lovely, silver, shiny, new, bling-bling; a part of me loaded with insecurity twinges while I purr along in my Toyota. Why? How come this is a metric of my self-esteem? Am I being unfair to myself, being upset by this train of thought and it’s influence? Consider, please, how much this viewpoint is drilled into us. Look at how often this imagery gets pushed into our faces, and how long that’s been going on. It shouldn’t surprise me, really, that I sometimes feel this way. Though my conscious values oppose this, the lingering thread of this programming has threads into the depths psyche.
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