For those of us that are no longer thirty-somethings and who have done the family-thing life may now be seeming…different. On the one hand I am comfortable in my own skin and on the other…well, it finds me out in foreign suburbs at hours when only magpies are awake.
I had long wondered what my independence would amount to – “freedom” away from responsibilities I had known since a youngster; what would I do with it? As it turns out, and this comes as no real surprise to me, I am irresponsible when unsupervised.
This is a very cryptic post. Perhaps I can sum it up by simply recognising that there’s a lot to be said for being content with “such things as we [already] have”.
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