I used to have a bank account with money in it and now I see it’s like a leaky bucket with money dripping out the bottom. I’m being plucked.
Maybe it was the caffeine, but my inner prism caught the sun, a rainbow arched through my chest, and my heart tap danced. I’m doing okay, I thought.
I’m stuck in a surreal bending of time. My calendar is empty for the rest of my life, or at least until this situation sorts itself out, which I now realize could be many months. I shudder and focus on the things I can control, like setting the microwave for Continue Reading
I’m cooking a lot, eating three meals a day at home, mostly rice and beans. My taste buds are bored, but my intestines are thrilled. This is my new normal.
Our marriage breakdown after 30 years was bound to happen because our careers were going in opposite directions.
After my husband died, I realized I needed to downsize and start over. But I didn’t want to. My stuff was my history, my identity, my nest and my friend.
I feel like my aging from 40 to 60 was an achievement, a master class in change management. In those two decades I earned my PhD in me.