I’m pretty prideful of my old soul and my mama bear ways. I love my old harden heart, I also enjoy that I yell at my friends for forgetting their jackets in 37 degree temperatures or how one needs a peephole and a dead lock for her door. I have a knack for coming home after work and pouring myself a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon while I listen to spanish guitar and bury my noise into a good book (don’t forget my old lady night gown, okay so it’s not old lady but I’m the only person I know that has night shirts). I love these aspects about my person, and while all my friends my age (I have two groups of friends…the young and the old and wise) are hungover on Saturday morning, I enjoy a nice cup of coffee as I watch the sun dance in my living room.
Yes, with some of my pervious posts, you think I’m some insane party girl or one that I have all these dime pieces flocking to me (that’s slim to none)…that really isn’t the case at all. I do like to indulge in a little fun but then it kills me and I need a couple months before fun again.
Anyways, point being…I’ve skipped my 30s-60s and literally just went straight to being in my 70s. I’m like a grandma without the grand babies (or even babies of my own…I’ll back track one day, when I meet a deserving man). This all came into light this morning. I arose early, poured some coffee and started cooking some Chile Colorado for this evening. My music is a little bit more edgy today…Motown Radio on Pandora is fucking amazing (real edgy).
It’s February 1st and my entire home is full of Valentine Decor, I bought items to make gluten free cookies and Bundt cake (while I don’t have anyone to consume the damn treats, I plan on making them anyways), dinner is on the stove and it’s barely 10am. I’m either going to be a fantastic mom/wife one day or I’m going to die of old age before I’m 30.
Regardless, at least my house is cozy.