Regina Ranck was an uptight woman who took herself far too seriously. Thirty three years old, single, high-powered executive she had the life that many young feminists aspire to when they begin choosing their career and life pathways. For Regina her job came first consuming sometimes fourteen hours a day. Since so much of her job required personal contact with fellow executives her personal appearance came a close second. Having fun, hanging out with friends, and even contemplating having a relationship took up too much time in her already overly scheduled day.
Every morning she'd rise at 5am, pull her hair back in a slick ponytail, and dress in her most form fitting work out clothes before proceeding to her personal gym she had designed in the basement of her condo equipped with the finest treadmill, weight machines, and stationary bike one money could buy. For a grueling forty five minutes every morning she would push herself to the point of physical exhaustion using the silent mantra that much of her success depended on her slender figure. Following her strict exercise schedule with some yoga exercises which did little to clear her mind as she watched herself with a critical in her wall to wall mirror intent on maintaining the most proper pose.
Upon completion of her workout, she would set the wall timer to exactly 5 minutes and 37 seconds which she determined to be the precise amount of time required for a morning shower. Exiting the shower she would spend the rest of her morning blow-drying her hair to absolute perfection. She had the financial means to hire someone that would come in every morning to do complete her hair and makeup for her but she didn't trust anyone but herself. No one knew quite how her handle her hair more than herself. After making sure each section was straighten just to her liking she would pull her hair into a tight bun securing it with 12 hairpins which matched her blond hair almost identically. She had applying her makeup down to an art form and everyday leave the bathroom with such a pristine face, eyeliner and shadows showcased her ice blue eyes, barely there pink blush highlighted her cheekbones, and her "magnet red" lips gave her quite a "I mean business" pout.
Quickly dressing in the tailored, expensive suit she picked out the night before making her that her undergarments matched for those "just in case" circumstances and slipping her feet into the appropriate $600 heels, she would rush out of her apartment, into the elevator. Brushing past her doorman without so much as a second glance and racing next door to the Parisian bakery only noticing the weather if it happened to be extremely cold or rainy. As a regular at the bakery, her croissant and coffee would be waiting at exactly 7:20 am and handed to her immediately upon walking into the quaint little shop.
From the moment she stepped out of her private car at 7:45 am until approximately 9:30 or 10 in the evening she was nonstop delegating overwhelming job tasks to everyone who worked under her, maintaining appointments in her office, and overlooking the completed tasks of the evening and sending back anything that wasn't up to her high standards. Most days lunch and dinner was served in the office and she would eat while surrounded by paperwork and in front of the multiple blinking "tasks to be completed" within her e-mail. Arriving so early in the morning and leaving long after nightfall, the only daylight that she saw was through her floor to ceiling windows of her office on the sixty-fifth floor. Though she was normally so busy she hardly noticed it at all.
It wasn't until she arrived back her condo exhausted and kicking off her shoes that the constant tension within her face would relax a little. She would choose her clothes for the next day, begin her evening bath, and pour herself a glass of wine. Slowly, she would undress in front of the mirror enjoying the curves she worked so hard to maintain and quietly imaging what it would be like to have someone else with her who might appreciate it. Naked, she would walk into the bathroom, light some pomegranate scented candles, wipe off her makeup, and take down her hair. It was at this time of the night when she did something that those who saw her daily would consider uncharacteristic but was who she was just too afraid to release.
Sinking in the warm water and feeling the jets gently massage her cramped muscles from the daily stresses she would relax for the only few moments of the day. The hard lines on her face seemed to smooth and disappear under the steam. It was during these moments that she would fantasize what it was like to not be alone, what it would be like to go out, maybe kiss the handsome stranger in the bar. Like a turtle, her hidden smile would peek from behind her lips. Possibly one day... one day she might have it all. Until then though she took comfort in her favorite half hour of the day where she could expose her personality for what is actually was not what she thought she needed to be. If she only saw herself in these moments, she would realize that what seemed so impossible was really right within her grasp if she only let go.
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