eating brie, working on my happy
I’m sick of wearing underwear with asses in them. I have had to do this for officially a month now. I didn’t realize how ass-less underwear, aka: thongs, had become such a part of my wardrobe. While pregnant, some of my ass-less little numbers didn’t fit for the spreading of my hips and if I couldn’t find a good stretchy option I just went without. I think having to wear panties with an ass contributes to my feeling matronly, I grieve my loss of mojo.
I am alone for the moment, everyone is sleeping and that feels like a treat to me. I did not revel in my alone time enough when I was a young 20-ish girl. I wish I had some of those days back. I remember going to a liquor store on a Friday night, picking up a bunch of beers and going home to cable television. If, after drinking a few tasty ones on a hot summer night I felt social, I made a couple calls to see if I could find company. If there was no company to be had, I would just go out alone. Those were some of the best nights I have had. Now approaching my mid thirties, I feel like those were the days.
Today instead, I busted open some brie, something I have waited since last September to do being that its on the no-can-eat list of foods to avoid while carrying a baby. I am savoring every bite. Now, if only I could turn myself into chipper. I think that might require an alcohol tolerance. One of which I have lost since being on sabattical from consumption for the same reasons I could not consume brie. Baby steps…
