This post is not for those who blush. Or at
Good. Now that we have that settled. If you are still with me, this is a vague recollection and assertion of what I enjoy most about being me. Who I am, today.
I was recently discussing age, and for the record, as I believe I may have previously mentioned, I am unabashedly 43. I earned every day of it, some of them harder, so I am darn well going to claim each and every one of them. In them, we all play roles, and today, I am Mrs. As the title purports, I have been the Miss, Ms. and although now Mrs. - each suited me at the time. They are all an abbreviation for Mistress. I always thought it an interesting word, Mistress. It has a variety of connotations, and it originally meant the woman of the house. The use of the word has certainly turned that meaning on its head and also means the other woman, of note, by definition is not the woman of the house. It could also mean a woman who commands, shall we say, unwavering attention.
I was with the girls for much of the day, save one outing and a brief failed attempt to get something done at the office, :damn you IRS:. I was apparently not commanding their unwavering attention.
No one goes by