The alarm clock rings, dragging me away from my blond-haired, blue-eyed Greek god lover this morning. Damn thing is such a buzz kill to my dreams, I swear! So I stagger to the bathroom and try in earnest to focus on some words on a page, because God forbid I sit without reading something! Slowly the wheels start turning,the gears click into place, and I join the land of the living, only to find that I may not have… joined the land of the living ,that is!
Lo and behold, in the mirror is a most horrifying sight! Just who the hell let a 100-year-old lady in our house? Okay, okay! I’m exaggerating a little, but really, not by much. Okay, okay! The truth is… I found wrinkles starting to form around my cheek. I said it. It’s out there. The world now knows. Deena Remiel is growing up. No that’s not it. Deena Remiel is maturing. No that’s not it either. DEENA REMIEL IS GETTING OLD. That’s it!
I examine. I explore. I smile and frown to see what makes those dastardly wrinkles appear. Thank goodness! I’m smiling more in my life than frowning. But truth be told, I’m still pissed. I’m already dying my hair. Oh, it was all fun and games for a while. “My hair is an accessory. I’m having fun with it.” But now, I look like Pepe Le Peu if I don’t get my hair colored in a timely fashion. Damn it.
Now I gotta buy bank-breaking wrinkle cream, too? Damn it. And what are those puffy bags doing under my eyes? Damn it. Gotta buy eye cream, too. And why is my skin moving when I brush blusher on my cheeks? Damn it. Gotta buy skin toner, as well.
I’m going to start a second job, just to pay for facial upkeep. I’m going to read books to unsuspecting people on the street. Only the classics, though. Bring a little culture to the masses. I’ve got one in mind already… A Wrinkle in Time. Argh.