Other ways of describing 'mojo' would be 'soul' or 'chutzpah'. And it's important, this mojo thing, because it gives a person a subtle but exhilarating sense of confidence and momentum. A bit like when you're riding a bicycle and you know you're going to get up the second hill because you're coming down the first hill so fast that nothing could ever stop you.
Anyway, whatever mojo is, I think I've lost it, maybe for good. I am mojo-less. I am sans mojo. You can tell by my 'sense of style'. I popped out to the shops the other day in a T-shirt I'd slept in with a jumper slung over the top, torn trousers trailing in the dirt, skidding a bit because my boots needed re-heeling. Shuffling along, with my bed hair, I looked like a junkie in search of their morning bag of skag, and you know what's really scary? I didn't even care.
I think this sort of thing happens every so often, especially with mums. They should have a section in parenting books after the stuff about sleepless nights and potty training - Beware of Losing Your Mojo. I believe they call it 'letting yourself go', but it's a bit more important than that. People who've 'let themselves go' tend to stand screaming in front of the mirror, seemingly shocked to the core that Halle Berry isn't staring back at them. Deluded they might be, but there's still some energy there, some fight left in them.
Women who've lost their mojo are different - if they ever look in the mirror it's with this kind of dead-eyed sarcasm, this kind of 'Yeah, so?' attitude.
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