A Middle Aged Lady

I am a middle aged lady.

How the heck did I get to be this old?

This wrinkly?

Why did I inherit my grandmas forehead and crepe paper hands?

How did it get to be just me, sitting here with a cat wound around my foot and a visiting semi incontinent, blind and deaf, elderly dog at my feet, where I now fear to tread?

Don’t I have washing to do………….so much less these days as we are now empty nesters………..of one months standing.

Don’t I have to get out of bed and be productive?

Don’t I have to go and shave the three week stubble from my tree trunk legs and try and spot any undergrowth with these myopic eyes under my armpits?

Shouldn’t I get up and go for a walk with the deaf, blind dog and get a breath of fresh air?

These are the thoughts that today encumber this middle aged ladys mind.

Perhaps tomorrow there will be different ones……………but for now……………this is enough.

 

 

 

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