Jorja's Pov
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my gaze fixed on my reflection. As I stared at myself, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled through my mind, making it difficult to decide. Should I conceal my vitiligo or let my skin breathe today?After much contemplation, I made my choice. With a determined expression, I reached for my makeup bag. I knew that by concealing my vitiligo, I would face the world with a sense of comfort and familiarity. It was my way of navigating through the complexities of societal expectations.
As the concealer glided across my skin, I watched as my unique pigmentation faded into the background. The mirror reflected a flawless image, free from the marks that made me stand out. With each brushstroke, I felt a sense of control over my appearance, as if I were painting a different version of myself.
I weakly smiled at myself in the mirror before putting my makeup back in its bag. I turned off the lights and walked over to my closet, taking out my freshly cleaned work uniform.
I'm currently working at a diner nearby. It may not be the most thrilling job, but it pays the bills and keeps me on my two feet. I've been there for over 2 years now, which is quite a long time.
The atmosphere there was mostly decent. I often encountered many rude customers, and even employees, but I had no choice but to brush it off and keep pushing forward. I had to do my job to in order to keep my job, you know?
In a rush to get ready for work, I hurriedly moisturized my body, not wanting my skin to be dry throughout the day. Slipping into my uniform, I let my 4C hair rest on my head in its natural form, framing my face almost perfectly. Pacing over to my bed, I reached for my phone, checked the time, and realized I was running behind schedule. "Shit!" I exclaimed to myself, hastily grabbing my purse.
Before heading out, I hurried to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of orange juice. There wasn't enough time to make breakfast, and I didn't even have the ingredients anyway. As I made my way towards the door, I heard a faint jingle from behind me. It was Penelope, my cat, wearing her collar. I froze in my tracks, remembering that I needed to feed her before leaving for work.
I let out a frustrated groan and tossed my purse onto the nearby bean bag chair by the front door. Penelope, responded with a chorus of meows as she strolled over to me, almost as if she was scolding me for forgetting to feed her before heading off to work. I quickly made amends and attended to her needs.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry! Geez" I exclaimed, walking over to the bottom cabinet in my kitchen and grabbing Penelope's 'Meow Mix' food.
I quickly poured the food into the bowl and carefully set it down on her tray. She immediately started eating, completely ignoring my presence in the room. I couldn't help but notice the untouched bowl of water from last night, but I remembered discussing with the vet whether it was safe for her to drink water, so there's no need to worry about that. I guess she just wasn't thirsty at the moment.