Regular readers wil have guessed by now that we didn’t do a darn thing last night. I did take a nice long shower and read some of March’s Martha Stewart Living. Nothing breathtaking in it yet. My skein of yarn and knitting needles are mocking me their basket, reminding me of Feburary’s issue. Remember when I was going to knit a scarf for David? (chortle) What WAS I thinking?
I had a bittersweet dream last night. I dreamt I was 10 years younger, and when I passed myself in the mirror, I LOOKED 10 years younger. I had my long blonde hair back, with the bangs. My face was smooth and actually glowed. You think you’re aging relatively well until you see how you looked back then. Yeah, I can pass for 27 now (or will as soon as I stop getting my hair cut soccer-mom short) but 10 years ago, I was passing for 17.
There are people my age who have done so much by now. They’ve started companies, started families, moved cross country or to the ‘big city.’ What do I have to show for living — and looking — 30 years? Have I made a difference?
