The Mirror in My Office

A mirror, hung slightly too high, sits on the wall of a small home office in Brooklyn. The mirror is, by some accounts, the most looked-at object in the apartment.

The mirror was, by the previous tenant, hung between the desk and the bookshelf. The mirror was hung, by the previous tenant, for reasons the current tenant has, on most days, decided not to investigate. The mirror has not, in the two and a half years the current tenant has lived in the apartment, been taken down.

The mirror is small. The mirror is, in the way some old mirrors are, slightly warped.

The mirror is looked at, by the tenant, in the course of a workday, more often than the tenant would, in any honest accounting, like to admit.

What the mirror shows

The mirror shows, on most days, a woman of thirty-eight.

The woman has brown hair. The hair has not, by the woman's own description, been colored since 2022. The woman has a small scar on her chin, from a fall in 2017. The woman has, at any given moment, the particular expression of a person who is, at that moment, trying to think about something else.

The mirror is not, by the woman's own description, a kind mirror. The mirror is, by the same description, slightly less kind than the mirror in the apartment's bathroom, which was bought in 2019, after a magazine article suggested that the right mirror could change a person's life. The bathroom mirror shows, by the same description, a person the woman is, on most days, willing to be. The office mirror shows, by the same description, a person the woman is, on most days, less willing to be.

The office mirror does not, by the woman's own description, show anything wrong. The office mirror shows, instead, everything the woman has not, on that day, fixed.

Why the mirror is looked at

The mirror is looked at, by the woman, because the woman is tired.

The mirror is looked at, by the woman, in the late morning, when the woman has been working for two hours and has not yet stood up. The mirror is looked at, by the woman, in the early afternoon, when the woman has been working for four hours and is beginning to lose the thread of what the woman is doing. The mirror is looked at, by the woman, in the late afternoon, when the woman has been working for six hours and has, by then, stopped trying to look like anything in particular.

The mirror is looked at, by the woman, every time, for the same reason. The mirror is looked at, by the woman, to see if the woman is still here. The mirror is looked at, by the woman, to see if the person in the mirror is, in any visible way, the person the woman was when the day started. The mirror is looked at, by the woman, the way a stove is checked.

Something has, by the woman's own description, always changed. The woman is, by the late afternoon, slightly less put together than the woman was in the morning. The woman's hair has moved. The woman's shirt has untucked. The small line between the woman's eyebrows — a line the woman does not, in general, have — has appeared. The woman looks, by the late afternoon, like the person the woman would be if no one were watching.

The philosopher

A philosopher — the woman cannot, by the woman's own description, remember which one — wrote, in a book the woman read in graduate school, that the self is, in part, the thing a person sees when a person looks in a mirror.

The woman has been thinking, in the years since graduate school, about whether the philosopher was correct. The woman has been thinking, in the years since, about whether the person the woman sees in the office mirror is, in any meaningful sense, the woman. The woman has been thinking, in the years since, about whether the person the woman sees in the office mirror is a small, slightly distorted, slightly tired version of the woman, captured at a particular angle, in a particular light.

The woman has decided, provisionally, that it does not matter. The philosopher was, the woman is sure, correct in the abstract. In practice, the woman looks in the mirror. The woman sees a person. The person is, in some sense, the woman.

The woman has also decided that the philosopher did not, probably, have a small warped mirror in the philosopher's office.

What has been done

Nothing has been done, by the woman, about the mirror.

The woman has thought, in the past two years, about taking the mirror down. The woman has thought, in the past two years, about putting something in front of the mirror. The woman has thought, in the past two years, about turning the desk so the mirror is behind the woman, which would mean the woman could not see the mirror without turning around.

The woman has done none of these things. The mirror is on the wall. The wall is behind the desk. The mirror is, in the woman's line of sight, slightly to the right. The mirror is seen, by the woman, when the woman looks up from the laptop, the way a clock is seen.

The woman has begun, in the past six months, to look less often. The woman does not have a system. The woman does not have a rule. The woman has, simply, started noticing how often the woman looks. The woman has, in the noticing, started to look less.

The woman is not, in this, succeeding. The woman is looking, as the woman writes this, more often than the woman should. The woman is looking, in the next paragraph, less often than the woman planned.

Tuesday

It is Tuesday. It is three in the afternoon. The mirror is on the wall, where it has been for two and a half years.

The woman is going to keep working. The woman is going to keep, when the woman looks up, seeing the person the woman sees. The woman is going to keep, for the rest of the afternoon, noticing that the woman has looked.

The woman is going to close the laptop, in an hour, and walk into the kitchen, and not look at the mirror on the way.

The woman is going to come back, after dinner, and look at the mirror, briefly, and then look away.

The woman is going to do this for a year. The woman is going to see what happens.

The mirror is, the woman is sure, going to still be there.