It’s the eve of my 49th birthday, and I’m sitting at home. I won’t tell you exactly WHERE I’m sitting, but safe to say it’s a location that we menopausal types visit FREQUENTLY, usually in the middle of the night.
Yes, I do some of my best thinking and writing there. If your stomach can’t handle this image, then kindly stop reading. 🙂
It’s been a week full of ups and downs – tentative job offer, verbal acceptance, dog injures leg, discovery that job isn’t quite what it was made out to be, gut starts talking (loudly), up all night, dog’s leg not better so off to vet, make the decision to decline job offer, feeling relieved about that, eat Chinese for dinner because it’s easy, dog won’t calm down and yelps when he tweaks leg again, I’m feeling panic start to build. Dinner gives me gas.
So, here I am. Safe within the walls of my Fortress of Porcelain Solitude. And I begin thinking…and writing what I’m thinking about.
It’s the eve of my 49th birthday. Twenty years ago, I’d be out on the town, keeping a good pace to make it to midnight to ring in the special day.
Right now, I’m sitting here debating whether to go hear some music and have a beer…
or pluck my latest chin hairs.