65 and Counting… and Restless
It felt like a long day at work.
Yes, I was bored.
Now I’m home, and somehow time feels like it’s dragging in slow motion.
Maybe the Universe is whispering:
“Shave your legs.”
“Take those dinner dishes downstairs.”
“There’s an itch you can’t quite scratch—go figure it out.”
I could cut my toenails.
Paint them something flirty.
Take the recycling out like a responsible adult.
I could even do a few chair exercises…
Or swing my arms around like Bing Bing doing Tai Chi in the living room. 💫
“And here’s how that restlessness turned out…” 😌
Look at all these options laid before me.
So what do you suppose I’m going to do?
Nothing.
Nothin’ at all. 🤓
And that, my friends, is the beauty of being 65 and counting.
No guilt. No rush. Just letting the night be exactly what it is.
Bean has entered the chat… and clearly, she’s unimpressed with my restlessness. 😹
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