Mom. Amateur Writer. Nice Person (most of the time).
I’m numb. But not entirely.
It’s as though a large portion of me has fallen asleep, while pieces still tingle.
I’ve lost control, but only partially. I can see and hear as I fumble. I can cringe as I ramble.
I was much younger then, in those days before.
Those days were so much shorter.
Anticipation, imagination. A schedule all my own.
I had a big girl job and a young girl life. I had no inner alarm clock.
“I like a state of continual becoming, with a goal in front and not behind.”
George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950) Irish playwright and critic
If only I could live as George Bernard Shaw speaks. Never looking back, complaining…