After trying to regain the time I felt I lost yesterday by sleeping late and becoming overly-lethargic because of the broken A/C at work, I woke up an extra 15 minutes early today. I flawlessly applied my make-up, going a little darker than I normally would wear to work; I picked out an outfit I know looks fine, although being that I'm wearing it all day, I think it's too busy for me; and I made sure I washed, dried and styled my hair to perfection. With the last curl and spritz I was about to do, I realized what I had become, or, more accurately, what I was striving for: I was starting to resemble a soap opera character.
I was turning into someone with an androgynous name like Dixyn or Varmel, who took all day to shop for an outlet cover for their homes, without going to work at all and having tons of money from my several dead/estranged/gender-confused husbands. I probably also had a child when I was 19, who, through the magic of soap-time, is now 15 and possibly pregnant with twins from two different fathers.
Then I started wondering if I would be a good girl or villain. I was hoping for the latter, as they have more fun, more sex, more money, and don't have to bother themselves with trying to please everyone. But, at the same time, I know too many people who fit into the category of "villain" in what would be my soap-opera-life. Maybe I would be an undetermined character.
Oh, who was I kidding. I am the fat soap star, who gets the network praised on hiring "not another size 4" for a role. I'd probably get nominated for best supporting actress at the daytime Emmys for being the "big girl in a small role". Har har har, oh the speechwriters would pat themselves on the back for that one.
Oh god, I remembered the more I thought about the situation. I was channelling my inner WASP, as they tend to strive to have the lifestyles soap characters do. My aunt actually got her "interior design knowledge" from soap operas.
What if I wasn't even on a good soap? What if I was on one of the poorly-slotted little-known name soaps that have only been around for a few years? Something with a name like "Glistening Virtues" or "Soaring Lillies". What if I were forced to wear the same outfit for four days straight, while still shopping for that one outlet cover to match my French drapes and coat of armor in my foyer? What if I had a foyer?!
No, no, no. This has gotten out of hand. I'm just not used to being this prepared every morning. I'm just getting back into the habit I threw away over my long weekend. People really do this, right? Emily P. vs. Emily A. isn't unrealistic, right? I did forget to put perfume on this morning; I'm not perfect. I am flawed today. Not to mention the scale not moving for about a week, whether I'm on my diet or not. Soap stars lose weight quickly; in soap opera time, I would have lost 30 pounds in 10 days, considering every day lasts about five in real time. And weekends wouldn't count. And my weight-loss efforts would be futile, since I would be kidnapped at some point and forced to gain the weight back so people would be able to tell the difference between me and my evil twin.
I wonder if my Emily P./Emily A. scenario is sort of like my evil twin storyline. Emily P. wasn't necessarily evil. She had her moments, but then again so will Emily A., I'm sure of. And maybe real-me wouldn't need soap opera husbands because my husband displays too many different personalities depending on the day. And, although I've been re-applying my shiny lip gloss all day, I know I won't make a habit of it. And my small-talks with people won't come back as a plot revelation later in the week; it'll just stay small-talk. And my moments alone in the house will be some of my most enjoyable times, not some fancy fund-raiser with all the big names in town when I'm being honored for being writer of the year for a book I've clearly been doing during my offtime raising my estranged child, spending money decorating my chateau, or having coffee conversations about my friends' ex-husbands, possible fathers of their children, coniving sisters or vindictive mothers-in-law.
I was turning into someone with an androgynous name like Dixyn or Varmel, who took all day to shop for an outlet cover for their homes, without going to work at all and having tons of money from my several dead/estranged/gender-confused husbands. I probably also had a child when I was 19, who, through the magic of soap-time, is now 15 and possibly pregnant with twins from two different fathers.
Then I started wondering if I would be a good girl or villain. I was hoping for the latter, as they have more fun, more sex, more money, and don't have to bother themselves with trying to please everyone. But, at the same time, I know too many people who fit into the category of "villain" in what would be my soap-opera-life. Maybe I would be an undetermined character.
Oh, who was I kidding. I am the fat soap star, who gets the network praised on hiring "not another size 4" for a role. I'd probably get nominated for best supporting actress at the daytime Emmys for being the "big girl in a small role". Har har har, oh the speechwriters would pat themselves on the back for that one.
Oh god, I remembered the more I thought about the situation. I was channelling my inner WASP, as they tend to strive to have the lifestyles soap characters do. My aunt actually got her "interior design knowledge" from soap operas.
What if I wasn't even on a good soap? What if I was on one of the poorly-slotted little-known name soaps that have only been around for a few years? Something with a name like "Glistening Virtues" or "Soaring Lillies". What if I were forced to wear the same outfit for four days straight, while still shopping for that one outlet cover to match my French drapes and coat of armor in my foyer? What if I had a foyer?!
No, no, no. This has gotten out of hand. I'm just not used to being this prepared every morning. I'm just getting back into the habit I threw away over my long weekend. People really do this, right? Emily P. vs. Emily A. isn't unrealistic, right? I did forget to put perfume on this morning; I'm not perfect. I am flawed today. Not to mention the scale not moving for about a week, whether I'm on my diet or not. Soap stars lose weight quickly; in soap opera time, I would have lost 30 pounds in 10 days, considering every day lasts about five in real time. And weekends wouldn't count. And my weight-loss efforts would be futile, since I would be kidnapped at some point and forced to gain the weight back so people would be able to tell the difference between me and my evil twin.
I wonder if my Emily P./Emily A. scenario is sort of like my evil twin storyline. Emily P. wasn't necessarily evil. She had her moments, but then again so will Emily A., I'm sure of. And maybe real-me wouldn't need soap opera husbands because my husband displays too many different personalities depending on the day. And, although I've been re-applying my shiny lip gloss all day, I know I won't make a habit of it. And my small-talks with people won't come back as a plot revelation later in the week; it'll just stay small-talk. And my moments alone in the house will be some of my most enjoyable times, not some fancy fund-raiser with all the big names in town when I'm being honored for being writer of the year for a book I've clearly been doing during my offtime raising my estranged child, spending money decorating my chateau, or having coffee conversations about my friends' ex-husbands, possible fathers of their children, coniving sisters or vindictive mothers-in-law.
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