So, today I am 40 years old. That's 40, or forty years old. I was born in 1971, an entirely different century. I don't feel any different to yesterday, apart from the fact that I've got the day off and am at home looking after two of the three offspring.
What I'd really like to do is come up with some sort of plan to better myself. A plan that involves washing the car and polishing shoes and ironing shirts, rather than drinking wine. I'd like time to read books, and comics, and current newspapers, and relax over long weekend breakfasts.
Time is such a scant resource, and that's really what I crave. I don't want to have to multi-task. Time to concentrate on individual tasks or activities would be a real gift.
With three young children, that's not really possible. Or, the lifestyle we lead doesn't allow for such luxuries. TW has so many commitments she is constantly running from one appointment to another, with barely time for her feet to touch the floor. There are some weeks where TW is out four nights in a row. I do get to keep up with some great TV shows, like The Walking Dead and True Blood, but I think there's always room for something more.
I suppose that one day the girls will be older and more self-sufficient, or even (I dare to hope) away at University. Then maybe we will have time to relax over long breakfasts with newspapers and freshly-brewed coffee and warm croissants, and ponder whether we should stroll along the seafront, or go into town and maybe have another coffee there?
It sounds like a modest ambition to me...
TTFN.
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