Epiphany, the Morning of July 28, 1993
Often Miriam takes a shower in a bathtub that has a layer of soap built up on it. In the refrigerator is a pot of garbanzo beans needing to have a sauce made for them a week ago already, which she still hasn't done. The bed is usually made by just straightening out the sheet and throwing the bed cover over it. She uses the bed cover as a blanket all year 'round. And there Miriam is in the mornings, feeling guilty about having all these things to do, watching CNN and drinking coffee, thinking about her day. Oh yes, there is also the unmentionable: some dishes in the sink from the night before. The guilt and stress of this situation are difficult for her to bear sometimes, but they are not enough to make her change her lifestyle. Not enough to emulate the women who have raised her. She admires them so much from a distance. With their immaculate ways, they seem to her to know just how to get things done. They had all told her that organization opened the door to getting things accomplished in life. They never really have time to waste like she does. Miriam sees them as models, efficiently going about their business in their family homes. Living these clean immaculate lives and getting other things done. And when she measures herself against them, she knows that something is wrong with her; that she is making herself ill not having control of her surroundings, for letting them rule her instead of ruling them.
So, over coffee and CNN she thinks, thinks and wonders and asks herself if there was an obvious moment when it had all gone wrong.