Just Call Me Doris

This post was originally published in January 2009. I got nothin' here folks. Waiting for the writing muse to appear.

When I woke up today I looked in the mirror and thought I looked old. Not old all over, I just had "old face." I've never really noticed before, because old doesn't bother me, since the alternative is dead. I'm pretty sure I would be bothered by dead. So I went to work on my old face. I thought that surely this was a mistake and I must have slept wrong. You know, like an all over sheet mark or something. I pinched my cheeks to get the blood flowing, just like Scarlett O'Hara- still old. I put on an extra coat of makeup but then I just looked like an old floozy. I find that red lipstick usually cures most ails but my reddest red didn't even do the trick (unless I plan on turning tricks, then maybe I'm set.) So I went to work with the best face I could muster. I told some co-workers about my old face and got the response I was looking for, "What? Old? You? You look great!!" (Or at least that was what I heard.) But, no matter what I was eventually able to convince myself of, it ended the moment a customer ran after me shouting, "Doris, Doris, DORIS!" I finally realized she was talking to me. She had confused me for her friend, Doris. I will apologize now to all those 20 year old Dorises out there, but I'm pretty sure that Doris is an old lady name that fits with my old lady face.

This is Doris Lessing, not me.