Has Anyone Seen My Bra?

It is roughly 39 days and six hours until my twenty-fifth high school reunion.  So far the only thing I have done regarding the scale is stub my toe on it several times while getting out of the shower.

I finally kicked it away, somewhat out of sight.

I have spent hours not on a treadmill, or outside walking, but pondering why I care so much about this reunion.  Why my appearance in particular is what I am focusing on.

I have overlooked any and all accomplishments in my life and all I have been seeing is the negative.

I have a part of me that wants to keep up with the Joneses.  I had thought in my forties I would be a study of self confidence and acceptance.  One of "those" women that people seek out to talk to and meet for coffee.  The wise woman who is comfortable in her skin and mixed matched outfits.

Instead my career has lead me away from that comfort zone, and I find myself sweating over outfit choices and lack of makeup on my days off.

I have come to the point where I actually now keep a bra in my glove compartment for the times I do not feel like wearing one, but am paranoid I may need one, in case I run in to someone.   The added bonus is that should anyone (besides my children) look in the glove compartment and see the bra, I could always fake a wry smile and let them assume I had some illicit affair in my tiny compact car.  That would have been much more believable in my Tahoe.

And seriously if I did run into someone would I say, "Oh my god it is so good to see you, I want to hear everything, just hang on one sec while I run out to my car!"  I doubt it.

It is not a sense of hubris that keeps me from celebrating my own accomplishments, what I do on a day to day basis, is just that; what I do.

I am off to see my mother at the end of this week, which means I will be out of town for a week.  My ex husband just informed me that we will have a meeting tonight to go over the schedule for while I am away and round up the usual friends to help out.  I offhandedly said, "How many people does it take to be me?"
He did not flinch at the question, but took it seriously as if I needed to a list of people to call to duty, "I am thinking at least four."

That does not include any clients that may be seeking me in dire need of a hair emergency.

If it takes four people to fill in one week of my life, there is certainly things there that are being accomplished.

When I go to my high school reunion can I say that I have managed to get the kids to school most days on time?  Or that I have styled hair that will be seen in photographs for years to come?  Or, yesterday when I was working a fashion show on a Sunday I had a moment when I had no clue where any of my children were and furiously sent out a text to several people saying, "Do you have the kids?"

I think it is an accomplishment to not only have no idea where your children are but be able to locate them as quickly as possible.  I think it is a huge accomplishment that after working all morning in a fast paced atmosphere (without a bra because I forgot it in the glove box) to come home and make a decent dinner when there is practically nothing in the house to eat.

I think I should tell anyone at my reunion who asks what I have been doing for the last twenty-five years, that I manage a small company, where there is no retirement plan, but the benefits are excellent.   

I will show up at the reunion no pounds lighter, a bank account that is probably dangerously low, but not  overdrawn (another accomplishment) and possibly even a bra.

But if I do forget the bra, I am full of pride in knowing it will take four people to do what I do on any given day.  I'd like to see a bra manage that.