I’m worried that I might slowly turn into a grandmother. Like the frog in the boiling you know how this goes.
Which is a concern. As if that needed saying.
I have recently had some time to think and possibly reevaluate my life choices. Also called vacation.
Anyways, I discovered a worrying propensity to prepare large breakfasts and generally cater to people. Like bring them coffee and making them pancakes and bacon and eggs. And if this doesn’t ring danger then what about all the knitting I’ve been doing lately? I am on fire, baby! Big fluffy wooly shawls or hats, I make them. And I also sew. As in I own a sewing machine and am able to make my own clothes. Albeit wobbly and inelegant, but I am pretty sure that I could free myself from the fashion industry and become an independent clother if that’s a word.
Is this my midlife crisis? Is this some sort of sign from the universe that I can’t decipher? Am I being boiled?!??
There’s a drunken night out there waiting for me to call and ask hey wanna get drinks and possibly lose some hours in the process? and it would reply yes finally you are alive again and I would feel like I woke up after a bad dream and balance would be restored. Except I really would much rather be on the couch knitting a baby blanket for my godchild.