The Day I Forgot My Mascara

I'm in no way what you'd call "high-maintenance", but I don't think there's been a day in over 40 years that I haven't worn mascara.

Until yesterday.

Every day of my life, unless I'm deathly ill, I put on at least a little bit of makeup. I guess I feel I owe my husband that much. (I'm not easy to live with.)

I had errands to run yesterday, and on the days I'm forced to leave the house I usually put a little extra effort into my appearance. I can't do much to make life on this earth more beautiful, but I can try not to frighten small children. (A little lot of makeup can cover a multitude of problems.) I thought I'd applied everything I needed--spackle, paint, and the like--but somehow I forgot mascara.

I swear I checked my appearance in the mirror before I left the house. At some point before the day was over, I'm sure I took another quick glance. And last thing before going to bed, I spent a ridiculous amount of time in front of the mirror removing my makeup so I could apply my magic potions that do all the heavy lifting while I sleep.

I never noticed something was amiss.

At around 4 a.m. I awoke with a headache...and an odd panicked thought. "Did I ever apply my mascara today???" (The mind is a very strange thing.)

So what exactly is going on in my post-menopausal brain??? Have the nearly 40 years I've been raising children taken a dangerous toll on my memory??? Is life on Planet Earth simply getting to be too much for me??? Am I losing my mind completely???

I might never know what happened yesterday, or why I had a 4 a.m. "awakening". But if I start to forget too many steps in my beauty routine, it could get real ugly real fast. It's hard enough to be called "Ma'am"; my fragile ego could never handle being called "Sir".