Eyes and Children. What? My Brain goes weird places sometimes.

I woke up this morning thinking about eyes and children. I blame my boyfriend and the paper he’s been working on for the eyes bit and my hormones for the children part. The fact that our married friends who we play D&D with on Thursday have a baby doesn’t hurt the child desire either. Seeing how infatuated the baby is with my boyfriend only adds to it. So, there we are. I’m getting on in years. I’m almost officially into my late 20’s and will be in about a month and a half. My body and my brain want a baby.

All right, got that bit out of the way. Next on the docket? Eyes. This morning I found myself thinking about my own and wondering if that was why random children seemed to dislike me. I get a lot of glares in the grocery store and have no idea why. I’m sure the fact that I carry myself like an authority figure doesn’t help. And come to think of it, that’s probably why none of my high school students gave my any shit while I was student teaching. I have the perfect posture for being the person in charge. People have commented on how good my posture is, my head up, my shoulders back. No slouching here. My usual reply: it comes from carrying pails of water across the barnyard. There’s a way to do it so you don’t get wet. That becomes increasingly important in January and February when you live in the Southern Tier of New York.

Got a little off topic, but it’s good for exploration so we’ll just leave that there.

When I was a child I used to stare into the mirror and think “Those are my eyes staring back at me. Why do they look so old?” I have a reference now for what I couldn’t quite put into words then. The Doctor and how his eyes are impossibly old for his appearance. That’s sort of how I felt then. Do my eyes look as old now that I’m starting to get laugh lines? Maybe not. I don’t spend near as much time looking at them as I used to.

They say eyes are the window to our soul. I might be inclined to agree with that. I’m still not sure why I get so many looks from children. And, it’s not all children. I spent half an hour Saturday playing with a young girl in the comic shop while her mother and two older brothers shopped. She certainly had no problem with me and wanted to know if I would be there the next time she came in. I told her I didn’t know if I would be. Then felt bad because she was upset, but I think she would have been more upset later if I told her yes and I wasn’t.

And there we have it, my morning thoughts. Also, one of the things I wanted to get done this week. It’s an ambitious week, but I’ve already knocked two things off and it’s only Tuesday. I think I can handle this. I think maybe I’ve finally got it through my thick skull that writing is my job now and if I’m going to make any money at it I need to get finished product out the door. There are magazines out there that take stuff from new writers and plenty of agents that might consider taking a look at my novel if I were to clean up my query and actually figure out something useful to tell them about myself. You know what? It’s a lot of work, but I’m enjoying the shit out of it right now. Even the not so pleasant part of revisions, as draining as it is, it’s still better than a lot of jobs I’ve had. I’ll take it and make something cool happen.

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