Something about this last birthday pulled a trigger for me. I’ve finally realized at my advanced age, if I don’t want to do something, there’s often no reason why I should.
On my actual birthday I decided I’d do
exactly what I wanted to do, so I began the day without a fattening sweet roll
provided by my excellent DIL. Then, instead of meeting friends for golf (one downside
– I wouldn’t be seeing them) and slogging my way through a game I’m growing
increasingly bad at, I’d head off for a game of pickleball. Which was a win (except
for my scores).
The afternoon was spent with friends
playing Mahjong and drinking wine. Super win.
Yesterday was my monthly book club
meeting. I’m always honest and true about reading the book; I mean that’s the
whole point of a book club – to take you out of your comfort zone. And I really
did pick it up and read a several chapters. But then I realized I didn’t want
to experience the travails of this character and I put it down.
I haven’t sunk yet to the level of romances and bake shop cozy mysteries, but I’d like to limit my reading of unhappy and threatened people.
The good/bad news is there was little point in coming prepared because instead of discussing the book, we spent the majority of our time listening to everyone’s personal history of daughters-in-law from India, or that nice Syrian guy who was dating their granddaughter.
Somehow we even
touched on the Hyundai plant raid. When one person dismissed it, saying they
were just construction workers (speaking over another who’d pointed out that
they were actually skilled engineers), I tuned out.
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