I’m 71 years old and still live in my house. Every day I wake up and think, ‘here we go again’. I make my coffee, check Facebook to see if anyone died and who’s still living in their house. Then I work on my daily blog about what bugs me the most. I don’t read anyone else’s blog anymore because I don’t care.
In the winter I can only bring in one piece of wood at a time but I don’t care if it takes me all frigging day. It’s bending down in front of the wood stove that’s the hardest. (Goddamn propane is so goddamn much and you freeze!)
In the spring and fall I can walk on the beach any day I want. Never go there in July or August….. it’s mob scene. And they all pee in the lake.
I’m seventy, single and surviving! (and still grateful)