Hello everybody! Special welcome to new visitors via the fabulous Susan of Une femme d'un certain age, who did such a lovely thing choosing my photo* to illustrate her post about the awesome Sheila's Dress Week of Horrors! roundup over at Ephemera. Thank you so much, Susan and Sheila - I am wicked honoured by your generosity!
* More pics of that particular grey dress can be found in my post Dust Bunny.
|blouse: Mosskito, Winners|
dress: Calvin Klein, Dillard's 75% off sale
boots: Fluevog Heidi, 40th birthday gift from Beary last summer
About a year ago, my previously copacetic relationship with time hit the skids. I seem to have lost my punctuality mojo - perhaps I over-used it during the first half of my life and just don't have any left? It used to be so easy.
Lately I find myself constantly frustrated by having to interrupt what I'm doing before I'm finished because it's time for other things - time to leave for this or that, time for my next meeting or appointment, time to take care of the chickens, time to go to bed, and so on. I'm not sure how something I used to be so good at became so complicated.
Is this another turning-40 thing?
Fortunately I've got some time off work coming up - I am hurting for rest and down time. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts to protect it, I hang my head when I think of everything already cluttering it up. I don't know what to make of my apparent demotion from feeling pretty much in charge of this stuff!
Something I've been musing on a while is the body as time machine. We're made up of so many measured rhythms: breathing, digestion, synapse firing, cell turnover, musculoskeletal movement and processes, hair and nail growth, sleep stages, and, of course, the ol' ticker. I'd love to figure out what's out of sync and hit the re-set button: the particular adjustment to my approach which will put things back to rights. Or at least a reasonable hand-drawn facsimile of same.
Wishing well-suited anchorings in the space-time continuum to y'all!