Okay, you know how you wake up one day and look at yourself in the mirror only to think to yourself: when did I get so old? Yeah, well, we’ve all been there, but it’s a whole ‘nother deal when you get up, look in the mirror, and realize: hmm, when was the last time I actually looked at myself in the mirror? You could have a tick sucking blood out of your armpit and you’d just roll some deodorant over it without ever knowing.

I mean, think about it. Guys, you remember what it was like in high school to just roll outta bed, check the floor for clothes, throw something on, and grab breakfast, or if it was a really special occasion, you’d shower, dab on some Polo by Ralph Lauren, and get a clean t-shirt off the hanger in the closet. But girls, things were different for most of us. We’d get up an hour early every morning to make sure our curling iron had time to heat up. We’d cake on make-up, checking to make sure it went with our outfit which would change at least 4 times before actually leaving the house. Yeah, I remember those days. Do you? Because from where I sit, I couldn’t be further from those days now!

Thinking back, I can’t believe I was that high maintenance. Of course, it never really got me anywhere so maybe that’s why I changed my ways. Or maybe it was one of those “life happens when you’re looking the other way” deals. Am I the only one who’s had the epiphany that I no longer pay attention to myself? Seriously. Does your mower get more use than your razor? Is it more important to have your yard looking pristine than your legs because the neighbors will actually see your lawn and they ain’t seein’ those legs? I wonder this, mostly because there’s a couple of old guys down the street that I know dedicate more time to maintaining their grass than I spend on my dry skin regime, hence the dry skin. Sure, I never go without a shower, but make-up went out the door with my high school diploma and mani/pedis are for women who need a break from their kids. Does anyone else just forego the battle of upkeep?

At some point, did you quit asking your hairdresser for the picture you saw of this “really cute style” and just start asking for something quick and easy? Guys, does it ever occur to you that your wife takes less time to get out of the house now than you do? Or do you find yourself having a “going out” outfit and a “mowing the lawn” pair of shorts and t-shirt and not ever wearing anything else in your closet except work clothes? Yeah, me, too.

And then I start asking myself the deeper philosophical questions about the proper personal hygiene and skin preservation. Do you quit looking in the mirror because you can’t deal with what’s in the mirror? Or is it because you’ve finally just become content with the card you were dealt? Or is it because you are just too damn tired to even care what you look like when there’s a list of 4000 things needing your attention far more important than whether or not your hair has a silky, shiny glow? I’m thinking it’s more likely that one. After much thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that single girls, trophy wives, models, movie stars, and people that rely on their bodies for career purposes, i.e. strippers and firemen are the only ones that take the time to conserve their youthful exteriors anymore. Maybe the rest of us just keep a lower profile and have bigger fish to fry. And by bigger fish, I mean, we run around in circles like a MBA homerun baseball king, without the glory or pay of the men in knickers.

But then you see all those commercials for eyebrow straighteners, tanning masks that act like sunglasses but don’t leave the lines, and men’s hair and dong stimulators and it starts to make you think. Heck, I’m pretty sure they can steam-clean you like a suit, get the cellulite rumples out, stretch out your wrinkles, iron you flat and hang you out good as new.

So then I wonder: should we be doing more to maintain ourselves? Should we make ourselves a priority again? Or should we just be happy that it’s one thing we don’t seem to worry about? Or, an even bigger or, should we beat ourselves up for losing focus on yet another thing and add it to the list so that we have 4001 things to take care of this week? And it is with that thought, that I become aware that my husband hasn’t kicked me outta bed yet but he might if I keep thinking all these random thoughts. So instead I promise proper maintenance will be first thing on my priority list when Matt Lauer calls me in for that interview. Until then, I can’t help but think I’m not so much a suit, as a t-shirt: stretch me out a little and a few wrinkles won’t hurt anything as long as I smell good. Because as long as we women don’t become the bearded goat woman and you guys don’t stinkify the kids’ field trip bus to the gift basket factory, we’re probably all good. It’s probably more important to just live our little lives, grill steak on Saturday night, and have a couple of beers with the gang when we manage to get down to 3,974 things on the master list.

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