So, I'm staring 30 in the face. Okay, that's a little dramatic because it is still 8 weeks away.
Let me start over...30 is on the horizon. I'm trying not to get all personal with the number until it is maybe 1 week away. Trying. Desperately. And yet, it keeps reminding me that it's coming.
It reminded me today as I was gardening. I was lovingly planting the second round of annuals that I bought this season and stood back and thought "I may need to go get some more." Yes, me, who never planted one thing at the old house in the 6 years that I lived there until I was trying to spruce it up to sell it. And seriously, annuals? These are the types of flowers I used to say were too much trouble for only having them around for 3 short months. I mean, who wants to replant every year?
And don't even get me started on the fact that I decided to whip up some banana bread the other day because I had 30 minutes to spare. It used to take me at least 30 hours to talk myself into a baking project, because, while I love to eat the end result, I used to hate the process to get me there.
What's next? Elastic pants and dying my hair blue? 30 is seriously starting to scare me.
2 comments:
Listen missy, I've been 30 since August and not once have I been tempted to plant annuals. I don't think it's 30 so much as it is senility. :) Although, I will take a slice of that banana bread if you're offering it up! PS - don't fret, 30 isn't that bad :)
Ok, from planting annuals to dying your hair blue, really?!
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