Birthday Month Day 25
Someone else should narrate my life for a day. I crave that insight. How mundane I must be. Maybe not as strange and unusual as I feel in my own skin and must emanate outward? I came in the door pretty late after 2100 hours last night. Walked in to my wife on the recliner, reading, listening to the same CD I've had on repeat because she left it in the car 3 days ago. She was stoned and had an empty glass of red wine on the table beside her. I knew from her texts that she had a rough afternoon, so I was glad she was relaxing. I honestly couldn't wait to just get in bed. I think my sense of self is constantly evolving. I think my interest was piqued when I read something along the lines of a person is not just one person. A single individual is actually comprised of many different versions of that individual. I get it. I'm not the same person to my husband as I am too my mother or my daughter or my son. Yes, these are different relationships, but each has a distinct