so… you know it’s bad when your teenager is looking at you with that, “Are you serious?!” look on their face. I was telling her about my new fascination with a blog (which shall remain nameless — oh, okay Alice’s – love those Victoria Magazine looking photos — but I digress). This look was followed by the “You poor thing. You need to get a life” look. The sad thing is she’s probably right. I’ve been noticing how much of my life is vicarious of late. I hate that. I miss the beat of being in a city. The rhythm of the streets. I miss dance class. Not that I was ever going to be a solid gold dancer, but just learning enough to look smooth in the community theater musicals. Which by the way, I also miss. I miss my dishwasher and having a clean house. I miss the strength and vitality that I once had. I was never before afraid to get old, but these days I’m starting to be.
So, what am I going to do about it? Nothing. Not a thing. Just whine in my blog and then get on with my relatively dull middle aged life with the hope that my energy levels won’t deplete much further before we’re done raising our kids.
I’m hoping it’s just being sick of winter and spring will bring with it a revival (yeah, I’m sick of hearing me complain about it too.) I pray for revival in our church, but I suppose I need to start with my own personal revival.
I’m the contact person for the American Cancer Society Daffodil Days fundraiser at my office. Daffodils are called the first flower of hope and the first flower of spring. Perhaps I should look into getting a bunch and sticking them on my desk then sticking one of my favorite scriptures on the vase:
Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world
Yeah, okay, I’m there.