It felt almost too late to draw a bath, but then again, such a long day required a good soak. If only I had more time to invest in relaxation, but margin within a busy life is hard to come by. I stood in the bathroom. Staring at the tub. Wondering if it was worth doing now, or tomorrow. Work tomorrow. Later in the evening, but work still. I sat on the tub edge. Staring into the empty white bottom. I got up and left closing the door.

I opened the jar and smothered the cream on my face. The clay stuck heavily and as I painted more and more on, I began to wonder if the facial mask really did much for skin. I didn’t know. It made me feel better about myself and after removing layer upon layer of makeup, it felt good to think things were going to be cleaner. I opened my makeup chest and took out a perfume powder. I may not bathe tonight, but I would still smell lovely. Estée Lauder Pleasures. One of the few floral fragrances I actually enjoyed.

I thought about opening my book, but it felt too weird with the facial mask on, and I was too distracted. So I sat on my bed. Pondering. Wondering about things. Creating deep and thoughtful questions. My boyfriend had said that I tend to think of things that don’t matter, but they feel like they matter. Why would they be questions at all if they did not matter? Besides, it gave my mind something to do, which mattered a great deal to me. It is difficult to be a mind that has no thoughts. He told me that I need to turn off my brain, I doubt there is a person who can really turn off their brain, and if they can, there is a great deal of blessing and distress in such a talent. I am not on who’s mind can turn off. It has never stopped imagining.

I looked at my face in the mirror. Green and flaky as patches of the facial mask began to dry. Soon I would wash the clay off my face and a fresh new self would appear. A clean slate. In the morning I would paint it again, but in that moment just after washing, I would enjoy the clean. I would enjoy the freedom of not having to try so hard to have a certain look. My skin would feel healthy. Happy. Glowing and youthful. It would be like those commercials.

But it never actually was like those commercials. I took off the mask and the flaws became more prominent. The vein down one side of my lip leading to my chin was still there, and made me look like a ventriloquist doll. My eyes looked as though circles had began to form beneath. I saw my age coming through. Not ugly, but not so very graceful. I knew one day the beauty would be gone. The pretty would fade.

The mind might one day too.

So I would wash my face, and lay on my bed, a keep wondering until I could not wonder anymore.

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