When you don’t have a full length mirror for months at a time, funny things start to happen…
You leave the house without fully knowing how you look.
After being out in public for an hour or so…you panic, look down at your body, and take a deep breath after confirming that you actually did remember to clothe yourself.
You forget what differentiates “jammie clothes” from “regular clothes.”
You no longer understand the concept of “matching.”
You find agreeable outfits in a matter of mere minutes, and survive just fine on two pairs of pants and two shirts.
You feel strongly satisfied that you’ve brought your “loose pants” on the adventure because, all things being equal, they’re clearly the best choice.
You may have the thought that you look like Ms. Claus… and that’s just fine and dandy.
And you magically think that the various spots and spills on your sweater will go unnoticed by others as they blissfully have by you.
Because all of that starts to not matter when you don’t have a full length mirror.
When you don’t have a full length mirror, the surface shell that once was you, it gracefully grows quiet.
‘Cause without the tool to dissect and to doubt, comes layers removed from the core.
And then by the time you arrive somewhere that does have a full length mirror…
you smile and you laugh and don’t give a fuck, because now what you see is not you.