Red boots and an interview

I put on trousers, that are too long.

Take them off again

A yellow dress? To make up for the lack of sun.

I iron a black collared top.

Pull faces at myself in the mirror.

Laugh because i might be a little excited.

I know i put mascara on, like kids do when they play.

There is no skill or technique in the way i apply the colour to my lips.

I half laugh at the girl in the mirror, dig through the clothes once more

Shorts because it's been summer, singlets, t-shirts and odd assortments

A dress.

A black dress.

Simple, kinda casual, kinda not.

A belt.

It's gold.

The shoes are what's been on my mind.

It's raining- it's been raining all night.

The only thing that makes sense are gumboots.

I ask if this is okay.

For an interview? Probably not.

What about the black ones? They're almost just boots. Waterproof boots.

The black ones have a buckle missing.

I'm not even sure when this happened.

I pull a face. Slip on the red ones.

My red boots.

They make the grey skies fun.

Red boots and a gold belt.

I'm wonder woman.

I like it.

Jacie smiles and tells me i look weird.

The boys always do this when they see me 'dressed up.'

He tells me my shirt is ugly. Shows what you know, it's a dress!

I laugh because he doesn't say a thing about the boots.

There's a red umbrella outside with spots.

I grab it as we leave.

Jacie waves goodbye from Kynans couch.

I like the sound of my boots on the stairs.

Walk in every puddle i see.

And drive, trusting time to the GPS man

When i reach the building, it's only Just drizzling.

I take the umbrella anyway.

A waterproof wonder woman.

An Elevator up, a waiting room, forms to fill out

As she leads me into the room, she smiles at my boots.

'Like the girl in the book with the bright red gumboots.' She remarks

I like being like a girl in a book.

I smile.

They smile back at me.

Introductions i can't remember are made.

'Are you ready to start?'

I'm not sure.

Why don't you tell us about yourself... who are you? What do you do in your spare time?

I hear myself talking, but i'm not sure what i'm actually saying.

In the back of my mind i'm thinking...

I'm the girl, who's 32 and never quite feels like an adult.

I'm the mother, who in her spare time- puts on a black dress, make up and red gumboots

Acts as though she knows how to behave in an interview, and all the while she's half smiling and thinking of the big puddle she saw, back in the car park outside.