Punching above weight and getting KO'd.

Do you ever have those days where you are convinced that you are a really attractive person? No really.  Have you ever left the house and thought, damn, I look good.  I'm actually a really good looking person.  I've been underselling myself for years.  Actually, now that I review it, I might even go so far as to label myself sexy today. (Just go with it kids, I'll reality base in a paragraph or two).

So one leaves the house and enters the world with a newly found spring in one's step.  Eye contact is made with the devilishly handsome and maintained for just that second too long.  Outfits selected from the racks are just beyond one's normal safety zone of comfort and practicality.  One walks tall with shoulders back and breasts (yes I know I go on about them) heading in a forward direction.

And then, you see a mirror.

And there it is.  That "Ah shit" feeling.  Is that what I really look like??  And it's like you've just met yourself for the first time in thirty-something years and had actually no idea of your appearance.  It's actually a sad little sort of disappointment.  It's like your head is reminding you of the reality of your situation.  Um, yes, sorry to put it bluntly but you are indeed average looking.  Your head has many flaws and your body is slowly accepting the idea that an investment in cosmetic surgery is no longer something that one might mock.

So it was in one of these moments that my friend Rocket and I decided we were punching above weight.  And worse still, that we hadn't thrown a punch in ages.  We just seem to like men who are way more attractive than ourselves.  Perhaps we should carry a hand mirror next time we sit on the beach and giggle at the guy in the budgie smugglers.  Or perhaps I should ask him out.  :)