I’m not talking about ending relationships, or facing death. I’m just talking about leaving the room.
Last night, at about ten PM, my husband got up from the couch and said, “I’m going to go start getting ready.”
I looked around, confused. It was 10 PM. He was getting ready to go somewhere? I was just sitting there, waiting for the kitchen reveal on “Christina on the Coast” (would the decision-phobic homeowner be happy with her backsplash tile choice? I had to know). Were we going somewhere? Did we have 10 PM plans?
Finally I got it. “You mean, get ready for bed?”
“Yes.” And that’s what he did.
On the way to work this morning…
- First, make sure your article mentions a list. You know, like, “Ten Ways to Have it ALL” or “Four Ways You’re Holding Yourself Back (or Maybe Just being Realistic About Your Options),” or how about, “Ten Steps for Writing a Medium Article I Won’t Read.”
- Position yourself as an expert on a subject, especially when you’re not. Don’t be a therapist, an economist, or a doctor. Advanced degrees? Not needed! You should be unemployed and living in a parental spare room dispensing advice on how to break free and live your best life, or a perennially single person giving advice…
How I came to love Fred Rogers, and why I didn’t at first.
There was Children’s TV before I knew there was such a thing; public television existed, but hadn’t reached the prairies of South Dakota, where I spent much of my first ten years. By the time we lived in a town large enough to have PBS, I was eleven years old — far too old for any of the lessons involved. Even so, I loved the frenetic nature of Sesame Street, the rhythmic phonics of The Electric Company. …
Yes, I got married on February 14th. Don’t ever do that.
I didn’t plan to get married on Valentine’s Day. It just kind of happened. It was February 10th, I needed to get married that weekend, and my mom came over to where I was working. She said, “You know, Sunday is Valentine’s Day.” We shrugged and smiled and pulled together a little wedding for family and friends in my parents’ living room. I wore a red dress and our cake was heart-shaped. It made our anniversary easy to remember.
Twelve years later, when I got divorced, I realized my…
Introduction: Who is writing this?
I am a middle-aged woman. I’m not one of those gracefully aging, “fifty is the new thirty” women. I’m more of a “fifty is the same old fifty” woman. I’m twice divorced and a grandmother. And yet, women like me are still out there trying to date. Amazing, right?
Who thought that dating would be part of aging? I hadn’t realized it would be like this. I mean, I can accept most aspects of the aging process, like having to put on glasses when I pick up a menu, and being on whichever no carbs/low…
Karen G Berry
Karen G. Berry is a writer by day and night. She blogs here: https://karengberry.mywriting.network/
