The past year had been hectic. Quite very, I might add.
I said my prayers. Happy birthday to me.
The now-30-year-old woman lay naked on her bed, sprawled out, limbs apart as she started blankly at the uninteresting white ceiling.
Still single, still smoking hot, still a...ahem...let's not get into that for now.
My phone buzzed on the night stand and I didn't move to get it, having an inkling who it might be. It went on for as long as it could and stopped. Then rang again.
I sighed, turning my body sideways to answer, albeit half-heartedly.
"Chief editor Yareli, what time is it?" I heard Mario's voice from the other side.
I turned on my phone screen to check the time. It was quite late.
"I'll be there soon." I murmured under my breath, burying my face deeper into the pillow.
"My office once you come in."
"Yes-" my words were cut short by the beeping sound.
I sucked in a handful of air and exhaled slowly. That damn man.
Self reflection could wait but work clearly couldn't.
I sighed again, very much hesitant to leave the comfort of my bed or put clothes on at all.
A habit (not sure if good or bad) I developed over the years of living alone, being naked that is.
Lena called it a kink and my name was saved as 'proud nudist' on her phone.
I let out a small laugh, remembering my best friend who lived almost three thousand miles away from me.
I dragged myself out of bed coming to face the ceiling-to-floor mirror as I turned from one side to another.
An important part of my daily routine was admiring my birthday suit and saying some words of affirmation to get me started on my day.
The latter part, though, was my therapist's idea. I was just too obsessed with myself not to stare each time I passed by a mirror...or anything with a reflection really.
I had at least one mirror in each room of my apartment, kitchen included.
Yeah, that's how bad it was.
"Gorgeous, extremely gorgeous. Yes you are, Yareli. A freaking great body, thanks to occasional gym sessions and a good diet." I proclaimed with a bright smile.
This went on for God knows how long before I peeled away from the masterpiece displayed in the mirror.
Finished up as fast as I could in the bathroom.
I strolled into my walk-in closet, which was, by the way, the fourth best thing that had ever happened to me.
The array of clothing arranged neatly on hangers, ranging from business attires to evening gowns to regular tees and jeans. Shoes and bags from different brands were not lacking as well.
One could say I practically owned a private boutique.
The disadvantage of having so many clothes was probably having to pick out a suitable one everytime. Fortunately, I happened to already have an outfit in mind.
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