I feel icky,,old,,frumpish,,moosish. I think it's the upcoming birthday. I feel old. Ancient. I'm approaching a half century. In no ones book am I anything close to young. OLD. Contemplating total makeover. Trade in this look for something completely new and different. Uber short hair? Could I lop off the way long hair and live through it? Go dark? A rich chocolate color? Red? That would only change the exterior. It wouldn't touch the mental and I think that's where the moose lives. I got asked out three times today at work by three different males. I got carded at the new Apu store by a young twit of a girl. I guess I can't really look too terribly bad. None of the would be suitors were particularly bad options. In fact,,none of them bad options at all. I just,,I feel old. Unattractive. Doesn't help that work has been,,,I need a new word,,a better descriptor than horrid. I need a word that signifies the depths of despair and hopelessness. I need a powerful dark ugly word that implies mean spirited coworkers and a workload that they vowed would never happen. Where is the word that with just its utterance you can convey a drive home clouded with tears and falling asleep with the tears still wet on your pillow and running down your cheeks. I need that word. I think it might be "nursing". Maybe it's "Martha"?
Mallory gave me a happy thought. The kind of happy thought that goes into the little bag where you store happy thoughts and magic dust so you can fly away to NeverLand. She will be back in Texas as a resident in 4 months. A happy thought.
The past week has been a "Gump" week. Do you remember the part in the movie where Jenny runs into the corn field to hide from her dad and she kneels down in the dirt and prays as only a child can pray,,"Dear Lord, make me bird so I can fly far far away"? That's been my week. Dear Lord,,,make me a bird so I can fly far far away. Dear Lord,,,make me a bird,,,