If this endless hellish heat wave ever ends and I can leave the house, I need to have some new adventures. I've spent too many months spinning sugar into cotton candy and I want some meat and potatoes. If nothing more, I've found myself and found my voice. That's pretty much all a woman of a certain age has to offer. I don't want to change to please men because I would just be an old broad in an inch of makeup and why waste money on things we can no longer afford? That's the benefit to being too old to compete for the dwindling pool of men who are not going to rescue you or pay your bills. More than likely, they will spend your money and at this age, expect you to be their nurse. No, thank you.
My goals are simple. Lose weight. Write. Learn. Try to keep the Republicans from stealing my tiny nest egg and dancing in the streets. I have beaten to death a small, irrelevant event that awoke certain passions I thought were dead, but there's only so much you can do. It has absolutely no effect on the gentleman in question, who has already gone off to moon over very young women. But hey! It inspires him and motivates him, and at his age, he needs all the help he can get. Go for it, Baby. I hope they appreciate what you have to offer.
I have to pay bills and stay fed and housed. I failed as a writer, and I don't want to fight for huge success any more. I don't need the money, so I just want to enjoy words. My body doesn't work all that well and I can't pretend love and sex will feel the same as they did at 28. I can't dance and drink all night and seduce handsome male models (OH YES, I DID!) any more. I can't ask a man to be a nurse to me in ten years and I find it a bit amusing that the single men my age don't think that will happen to them, even without exercise or proper diet.
I'm mature and I've earned a rest. I'm on Disability and Pension, so like it or not, I am retired. Now that I'm all settled down with Medicare...let's see what kind of adventures I can have...with lowered expectations.
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