Sigh.
So this morning, after a pygmy “shower” I looked into my airbnb’s mirror and saw what I had suspected the past few weeks to be true.
I had gotten older.
There’s this new wrinkle on my face, a continuation of one that now can only be described as “Joker-ish.” It traces my mouth in a clown-ish paint job manner, lines forming a half circle outline of a ghastly smile. I had thought it was just the folds of skin from having slept on crumpling pillows, pillows seemingly filled with sealed air but having a pinprick hole that slowly deflated them into pancakes. But it turns out those weren’t temporary folds of the skin I saw — they’re permanent.
I’ve been posting a number of photos lately that in my younger days I would’ve marked as, “nah… bad angle.” I look a but plumper than I’d like, and it’s not the low angle.
Could it be too many waffles? Is there such a thing as too many waffles?
And while I said this AirBNB was typically weird, my host Christine really went all out on the “nB” — look at this breakfast spread! She asked me last night when I wanted to have breakfast and I told her I was good just grabbing a piece of fruit.
THIS is how she responded this morning:
And that was before she brought out the bread and cheese!
What if I had asked for a waffle?