There are dishes waiting to be washed. They’d take ten minutes to do but I’ve been delaying for eight hours. I should go to bed and start fresh in the morning but guilt is keeping me in this kitchen chair.
The thoughts I think lately! Shocking. Dirty, snarky, true and funny, but out of character for me I think. A friend of mine says in a few years I’ll lose my filter and I’ll start saying those thoughts out loud and then I can officially begin my career as an eccentric old lady. It’s already starting. Today I heard that so-and-so lives in Rochester and I said, “On purpose?”
I’m cold all the time now.
I think I’m happier than I was this time last year. I’m certainly busier than I was this time last year. I go to the gym, I take the kids swimming, I occasionally shop, I babysit the kid next door. The secret is that I’m coasting on the habits I started to build before winter depression set in. I just have to keep it going. Once I fall down I might never get back up.
Plus, I’m thinner than I was last year, so that’s something.
I wish I could do or make something really beautiful but I don’t know how.
I’m not even sure I know who I am. Who I think I am. Who other people think I am. Or why any of that matters at all. Really it’s just about who He says I am. But I look in the mirror and I see a serious, furrow-browed, middle-aged woman – someone who looks like she knows something. But inside I’m all silliness and anxiety. Insecurity just ain’t cute at my age.
What is there to look forward to? What milestones? What adventures? Rhetorical, don’t answer.
My husband doesn’t want to be my companion in seeking out new worlds and new civilizations. He doesn’t want to hike the Appalachian trail with me. I think he might be planning his death. Sometimes I think he’s surprised he’s lasted this long; he thought he was elderly at 34.
And then what for me? I’ll wish we’d made love more, that I’d been nicer, complained less, washed the dishes. Oh, the dishes.