I sat up completely and put my feet on the wooden floor…it was not freezing cold. To my delight…Abby had remembered to turn the heat up this morning.
You would think that after living in the frigid state of Minnesota for her entire life, Abby would naturally and even unconsciously realize the importance of heat when the outside temperature is struggling to reach -15 below zero…which was the forecast high for today. But…you would be thinking incorrectly.
Abby…like me…had spent her entire life…living in the comfort and security of her parent’s house and was not accustomed to the inner-workings of a wildly complicated heating/cooling system…as in…turn the heat on when it is cold and turn the air conditioning on when it is hot.
But…I digress…today the floor was toasty warm and therefore…I was happy.
I stood up. So far so good. I turned slowly and glanced at myself in my full-length mirror. I had hung that mirror when I…surprise, surprise… realized at age 12 I didn’t want to look like a boy any more.
Stella wandered back from the bathroom and sat down next to me. She also looked at the mirror.
“Even with the waviness of this cheap mirror, I don’t look too bad for a completely hungover 24-year-old,” I said optimistically.
Stella…with her head cocked to the side…seemed to be appraising me.
I smiled down at her, looked back at my reflection and then fluffed my short, brown hair, pulled my little side-burns in front of my just a bit too large ears and patted down my always errant bangs which would never…even in the best of circumstances…lay straight.
I patted my cheeks to add some natural color and looked a little closer at the mirror. Bloodshot eyes. For sure…sigh.
“Well, Stella…not completely horrible. But, I do think I should buy a new mirror.”
“Doesn’t drinking alcohol age a person?”