How is a girl to feel when she gets denied a life insurance policy at age 35 for medical reasons? I’m going for the "screw you, I’m going to live to be really old and happy," attitude, but a part of me is bothered that I’m not a good enough risk even for the relatively low amount I applied for. And, get this: John got his approved and he puts butter, mayo, cheese, AND ketchup on his garden burgers. Me? mustard only.
I find that I’m still trying to fit back into my own life since I came home from my trip last week. I’m still in the newer, stricter, put up with less bullshit frame of mind that I snapped into when I realized how unpleasant my children could be when they tried. And, really, I see some improvement. Now that Willow is weaned and seems to be totally able to function without me around her all the time, I can start to think about doing some of the things I’ve thought about for the past nearly ten years but not had the time to pursue. There are so many things that I don’t know where to begin. First though, I want so badly to get my house in order. Something tells me that everything else will come easier if I can get on top of it and be organized and make better use of my time. Looking around here, I think I’ll start with my trashed computer desk.