My Morning of Change

When I woke up that morning, I knew something was different, something, but what? Bits of sleep kept muddling my train of though.

I stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing my eyes. The crazy croon was waiting in the mirror again – her hair was wild and she had panda eyes. I scowled at her, she scowled back. That old feeling of nothingness began to crawl from the pit of my stomach to my throat again.

I reached for my toothbrush to scrub it all away – to scrub it, tear it, wear it down, to salvage the day. I squeezed out some toothpaste and let the mint-flavour flood my mouth. But just as it hit me,  something broke. I tried to fight it off. I brushed and I brushed and I brushed. It didn’t work; I gave in. I cried and I cried, and then I just laughed for a bit.

When I looked back in the mirror, I saw the truth –broke, unhappy, and as of that morning, unemployed. Broke, unhappy, unemployed.

Broke, unhappy, unemployed, and now free.

I smiled at the crazy woman, she smiled back, and together we did some rearranging – broke, unemployed, but free. I’ve been smiling ever since.


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