There's a strange woman sitting at my desk.
She's writing in my Blog.
She's scrapbooking using my stuff.
She's wearing my clothes.
She's even drinking my coffee.
She slept until 9:15 am in my bed on my pillow.
She took far-too-long in my shower first thing this morning.
She dressed in my clothes today...the nice outfit that had to be ironed.
She went to the mall and she browsed alone.
She bought things for herself using my debit card.
She browsed a-l-o-t. No one interrupted her to announce the need for facilities.
She ate lunch at my favorite resturant, Baha Fresh, for only $6.
She went to a craft store and an art supply store.
She played my favorite CDs in my Jeep, with the windows down and the volume turned up way too loud.
She came home to my home, although it was unusually quiet.
She sat on my sofa and read my magazine untill my husband came home.
She kissed my husband.
She and he went to a quiet dinner out at another favorite resturant, and sat at a table for only two.
She and he came back to my house.
And like I said, now she sits at my computer writing in my blog.
All day I have been followed around by this strange woman. She's familiar but forgotten. Like an old friend I haven't seen in eons.
She's the strange me.
She is me... but a different me. A me without them.
Me, without them, makes me feel like a strange woman is in my place. It's funny. I never realize how much being a mother defines me until they go away.