She thought that they were separate: her roles. She thought that she could break away and act out each one independently. She thought that when she was at work, she was the worker; with her child, the mother; her husband, the lover and herself, the drinker.

But as she hugged her son to her hip, kissed her husband on the lips, checked her roster and poured another wine, she realized she was everything, all the time.

She was the definition of all but fought the urge to be defined by any of them.

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