The dream was lowlife, likely caused by sleeping motion-restricted in an arthritic body, and affected her mood on waking.
Well, she couldn't leap out of bed to cheerily greet the day as she used to in this home of her birth - her parents were dead, husband had left, children were on their own - so she began to stretch her stiff limbs and torso and turned her head to gaze at her father's oak chest of drawers with those charming mustache handles. This would motivate her. She needed a dress-up day to banish the dream and give her something to look forward to.
In the first drawer was a shapeless track suit, an oversize sweater, a washed out blouse and skirt, a print house dress. Garbed in one of these outfits she would brush her hair over her forehead to create bangs, pull on a tuque or a tam, lace into a pair of worn (wonderfully comfortable!) sneakers and then trundle out. One of her kids had passed her on the street and not recognized her. She would spend the day hanging out in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter. The staff and other habitues called her Rosy and liked her visits.
In the second drawer were her rich duds, the accessories for the smart clothing hanging wrinkle-free in closets. Marvellously attired off she would glide to a spa or four star restaurant or a golf course. She was enjoying golf! She wished she had had - oh, be truthful, had taken - the time to go golfing with Fernie. He had long ago found a more agreeable partner. And she was finding several other unattached gentlemen expressed an interest in her when she joined in a foursome. Which was flattering but they all seemed to want something from her...which, she supposed, was better than those who needed something from her, but still....
Mid-drawer - a complete set of man's clothing. At times she would put these on, pull a fedora over her hair, muffle her lower face with a scarf (it was a cool weather outfit) and saunter out to experience life from a man's point of view. She had found it quite different, even from her onlooker, eavesdropper status. Of course she couldn't participate but it gave her much on which to ponder.
Next drawer down, her clown costume. It had taken many happy months to put together this alter ego and she found she still added or subtracted to the personality. She would step out gaily to a park or a mall and just sit. Clowns were magnets. She attracted all ages. People loved clowns. She could be a full participant, albeit a catalyst, in the magic. And it was her hardest role because in spite of the disguise she was most exposed.
In the large bottom drawer, on the left, were the fancy clothes she would wear to a wedding, on the right, the somber garments suitable for a funeral. She would scan the newspaper death notices and marriage announcements and note the date of any that especially interested her. Looking suitable bereaved or elated she planned to murmur some vague statement of being of some distant acquaintance if questioned but no one had ever asked. It was surprising how real the emotion evoked was. She felt she was part of an ever changing, ever extending family.
There, exercises had loosened her. She threw back the covers, swung out her legs, sat up on the side of the bed, prepared to make a decision as to role of the day.