During his last visit, Will leaned over, peered at my face for a few moments and narrowed his eyes. I looked at him looking at me but before I could ask what exactly it was about my face that had drawn his interest, he flopped back against the sofa cushions, his mouth a taut line and turned the channel over to Supernanny (because part of the reason our friendship works is our shared love of watching people with no control over their offspring.)
When Will gets like this, you just have to leave him to it and investigate the reason for his impromptu solemnity your damn self, so I ambled to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror; I mean really looked. It was the first time I had done so in a while and I was…perturbed by what I saw. I was a hot ass mess. I looked like a person who had not slept in weeks. I looked exhausted. I returned to the sofa and gingerly perched beside Will. He looked over at me:
Me: I guess I need to…
And then we ate cheesesteaks because disturbing life revelations are always best soothed by the ingestion of trans fats.