I don’t feel like myself.
And I don’t think it’s the cold medicine.
It’s a strange feeling, and I am not sure what to do about it…if anything.
Where I had ambition, I have a certain
satisfaction acceptance of things just the way they are, for now.
Where I wanted to be a freelance writer and make my living that way, now I just want to drink coffee on the deck and read. Perhaps write a short poem. Work on my family memoir.
Where before I kept telling myself I need to join a gym/take a class/walk the dogs longer today now all I want to do is play tennis (partly because we laugh so damn much when we play – I am awfully entertaining!)
I used to want more.
But right now, I don’t know, it’s strange…I just want to do a few simple things.
I’ve been thrifting for French style clothes, books, and collectibles and selling them in my eBay shop La Boutique FrenCHIC.
I’ve signed up to substitute teach.
I may try working a few hours each week in a local bakery – for a French pastry chef.
I don’t know…it’s not much. Just a little here and there.
But it feels like enough.