The mask

I am one of the best people I know at putting on a mask.  Then again, I couldn’t really know that could I.  Braid hair, wash face, moisturize, a little powder concealer and eye liner. Bam. 

Mask of a perfectly held together and in charge woman acquired.  Except that you can’t really put eye liner on eyes that are crying.  You just have to sort of slide it on over the wet that keeps coming.  If I manage to slide it on and give myself a good stare I can fool myself into believing that I am this woman fast enough that the tears will stop oozing out, and the eyeliner will dry in place. Off to conquer what ever menial tasks that are next on my list that build into a mountain of overwhelm so intense that I have found this mask necessary in the first place.   If I can’t stare away the tears I go to Plan B.  This is slate gray eye shadow.  It acts like eye liner, and will stick to the wet eyelids with a fierce bold “don’t question me” look that will do.  Then, with my mask on, my artificial strength showing, I can head into the world with the pretend confidence to get me through.


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