Having spent the morning working, I looked a bit haggard. A shower speaker was hastily fashioned from my phone and a drinking glass, though, and I set about my morning routine. My chosen music was a track lasting 9 minutes, and I stepped under the warm water as it started. A bit of primping followed, and I stepped outside for a moment, and snapped a picture before sitting back down to look at a bit more work. I contemplated my morning, where a sudden panic attack had sent me scrambling for the bathroom.
It usually comes back to hair, and this had been no different. A few fronds of my hair had tickled across the edge of my mouth, with the usual anxiety following. I usually kept my hair pinned to the sides of my face, but after a discussion the night before about swept bangs, I pulled out a couple of the clips I'd been fussing with. After a quick tease with my finger, I stood and again walked outside. The midday sun had moved slightly since the previous shot, and so I had to change my pose to avoid glare. After withdrawing my outstretched arm, I looked at the result.
I teared up a bit, barely resisting crying. For perhaps the first time, I needed no adjectives. The person who looked back at the camera, whose photo I now looked at, needed no adjectives. She was just a woman.