There’s this woman in my building who looks like Meryl Streep. Honestly, she’s the spitting image. The first time I saw her, I spit it out without giving it a second thought. Wow, you look just like – she began nodding knowingly before I could finish. But I was immediately relieved when she didn’t take offence to my random exclaim. On the contrary, she accepted the compliment with class and grace. Just like Meryl would.
The woman even has the same glasses as Meryl, and carries herself with the same auspicious elegance, prowess, and charm. There are plenty of interesting characters in my building – the girl who walks in the rain (by choice), the elderly woman with the Irish accent who (adoringly) tells me of her 6 kids in our 5-floor slowest elevator on earth ride – but Meryl (let’s just call her) is by far the most intriguing.
Side note: I’ve gone through one of the most horrendous experiences lately. Yes, a breakup, but really, much worse than your standard heartache. More like a drop me on the head and stomp on me until I no longer know what reality is kind of thing. Seriously, I would have much preferred he punched me.
This experience is completely separate from my Meryl lookalike, except for maybe that I wish I could be more like Meryl Streep when I’m feeling like such utter and complete dog cr*p during times like these. I wish I could have her prowess and strength, and take the world on with a vengeful smirk. But, no. Vengeance wouldn’t be the right thing, my momma says.
Except for, the other day, the most peculiar thing happened: Meryl got into the elevator with her husband (or so I presume) and they casually carried on with their conversation after she gave me one of her knowing, graceful glances. She said something that caught my attention and had me nodding in silence to myself. She said: I’m just… baffled for life.
She said this in her Meryl way. Her husband agreed, and she didn’t seem to be too upset or drawn in by the topic of the conversation – whatever it was, I’ll never know. But those three words just hit me, and they haven’t left me since: baffled for life.
Cause here’s the thing: what the hell are you supposed to do with yourself when you’re baffled for life? When you can’t possibly make sense of what has occurred, because there simply is no sense in it? How do you fully, truly, completely, madly, happily, wonderfully feel whole again when you’ve been baffled for life?
If anyone has an answer, please dear God, send it my way.
In the meantime, I’ve decided this: when you’re baffled for life, all of the life lessons, values, and philosophies you thought you knew may or may not be valid. So being baffled for life is kind of like being a newborn infant in a grown human’s body. You can wail away, scared and hungry, hoping to be saved (I already KNOW that doesn’t work, ah ha!), or you can just go to sleep and wait until your brain is developed enough to start making sense of the world around you.
Here’s to hoping that being “baffled for life” isn’t really “for life” and more just for a much longer period than you’d ever imagine you could humanly be baffled for.
If you’ve been baffled for life like I have, my heart goes out to you. I hope you Meryl your way through the situation like a badass (and then show me how).