All sorts of sayings and fragments of things she had read were swirling around in her head throughout the day, while, unconsciously, or not so much, she was evaluating her life.
The soul has started packing a little bag.
She really liked this one, although she was not sure where she had read it. She could see her soul, all dressed up in its traveling outfit, for some reason her soul had a Victorian traveling dress and a big carpet bag in which it had shoved all the things it thought it might need. Her soul was childish and pretended to be ready for an unknown journey.
The mirror cracked from side to side.
This was definitely the lovely Agatha. She could not remember off the top of her head the meaning of the mirror in the story, but for her, for her childish soul it felt like a waking up, like the shine, the light was gone and illusions were shattered.
This is the winter of our discontent.
Shakespeare of course. She did not know if it was accurate but it worked for her. She felt the chill of dissatisfaction while looking around at what she had accomplished, while going through the inventory of all the dreams she had abandoned along the way. No, not content, not content at all.
Just going through the motions.
This was another random, unidentifiable one. She was going though the motions, she was doing what she needed to do, but somehow all she felt was irritation and dissatisfaction.
She had read in a paper about a celebrity wife, meaning, the woman was the wife of a famous man, she was not famous herself, just by association, so this woman suffered from deep depression, so much so that she got herself into one of those special clinics.
While cleaning the windows the image of the woman floated in front of her eyes. She had seen the woman countless times in the papers and on TV. She was beautiful, she had a gorgeous husband, an amazing house, all the money in the world…
And still even she had to go away for a while …
God works in mysterious ways.
She truly believed that. Many times that saying proved itself to be true. She never spoke about her beliefs, she did not want to have to defend them or explain them. They were hers, private and intimate. She had read, in another paper, about a study that showed that people that had a system of belief, whichever, had less anxiety than people that did not. Makes sense, she thought to herself while putting the vacuum away.
She went to change to go to work. Her body felt like an alien in recent times. The changes of middle age were so fast that her mind could not keep up. But oh well, we go through the motions … no other choice is there? Thank God for our health!
In the little supermarket she worked in she stacked shelves, she swept the floors, she was a cashier, she did what needed to be done. Gladly. She thrived in action, it kept her mind busy … well, of course, except the different random things popping in unexpectedly.
She’d seen this movie with a guy that took early retirement and then found it hard to cope. She imagined she would be like that, and this thought gave her renewed energy to perform her tasks.
You got this.
Sure do!
And she smiled to the unsuspecting customer she was helping with their shopping.
‘You have a good day now!’
‘Thank you you too!’, the customer replied and then on their way out pressed the green, smiling face on the customer satisfaction machine.
She saw that and was pleased beyond measure.
Job well done!
Yaba daba doooo!
Where are youuu?!
I have found you!
Sure have!
And she smiled to the next customer in line.