My fingernails, which were only two days ago painted in a lovely metallic lavender, are now chipping at the tips. My boobs ache, because I’m just now remembering which bra is the one I can’t wear for a full eight hours at work and the minutes I got home tonight, I tore it off in a feminist frenzy. My feet are sore and I discovered yesterday that the hills in uptown Saint John were not meant to be walked in heels. I’m tired. My legs ache and my brain feels like mush.
I have not taken my makeup off properly the last two nights, so there is a slight shadow of smudged eyeliner and mascara that has lingered just long enough to find the crinkles that 39 years and three kids gave me.
But, I had a shower and shaved my legs and I know I’m going to get some decent sleep tonight because I have to get up in the morning and go to work.
And that is why the best view from my bed tonight is the smile on my face.