The here and now

I swear I look in the mirror every morning and get a 502 error. The server is being pinged, but it’s not returning the requested information.

I don’t think I look as old as I am. I feel equal parts older and younger than I am. None of those things makes any sense when I see myself.

It’s so weird.

When I wake up in the morning and everything is stiff and creaky and every move I make is accompanied by a sound effect and my jaw is locked because I’ve been clenching it all night, I feel about eighty-five. I definitely don’t look eighty-five…yet.

When I get that first burst of energy of the day and I’m bouncing around the house getting ready and giggling at the nonsense running around in my head, I feel about eight. I definitely don’t look eight.

Maybe the problem is that I have no idea what “now” is supposed to feel like. I can’t remember the last time I felt like I knew what “now” was supposed to feel like. If I had to guess, it was probably between ten and twelve years ago, when I was freshly adulting and pretty sure I was going about it the right way. I mean, Early-Twenties-Me wanted to get married and have a baby. That’s what you did after finishing college and getting a job, right?

I am SO grateful that Early-Twenties-Me didn’t manage to bring that desire to fruition. I’d rather be lost in this quagmire of “WTF even am I right now” than doing the third grade carpool.

All I can do is draw comparisons, really. When my mother was my age, I was a toddler. Now-Me can’t imagine having a toddler—or the third- or fourth grader that that kid could have possibly been by now if Early-Twenties-Me had forced the issue. Now-Me is a slacker, my dudes. You can’t slack with kiddos, and Now-Me can’t not slack.

Of course, my definition of ‘slack’ is likely many people’s definition of ‘having one’s shit well-and-truly together’, but that’s beside the point.

For all its weirdness, though, I feel like I’m in the right place right now—even though I can’t define what that place is for the life of me. I’m doing what I want to do (outside of working hours, anyway). I’m experiencing Now-Me in all her messed up, fractured glory. Now-Me is pretty cool. She has no idea where she is or where she’s going, but she likes it here. She’s diggin’ the gray hairs. She’s groovin’ to her internal drummer.

She really needs to do laundry.

But she’ll get there when she gets there. Right now, she’s trying to learn to loosen up her drawing style, and that’s way more fun than pairing socks.

So, Now-Me, Mirror-Me, welcome to Limbo. It ain’t half bad.