It’s the end of my world and I know it, to quote a classic lyric. I got what I asked for and it’s all good. Haven’t touched liquor in well over a week. Sleepin’ like a baby. I’ve done dishes once over the past eight days. Minus work lunches, I have prepared two meals over said days. Who said life with their 67 year old mother is really that bad!
On an honest note, it’s quite undesirable. I find myself restricted, as any adult would. My bedroom is adjacent to hers, for pitiful sake (as she might say)! There seems to be a rule where I can’t wash my boxers along with her face cloths when laundering. My date life is severely crippled. But when I think about it, it was always pretty handicapped by my own efforts.
Without even needing to be said, I love her like crazy, and she’s been more than accomodating. I mean, who wants their 38 year old man-child along with his three flippingly adorable kids taking shelter with them?! I sure wouldn’t, I wouldn’t think. It’s five folks making the best of a scenario, what else can be said.
Life goeth on. Really, two years…one can blink and it’s pretty much over. One needs to embrace what he’s dived into and own it…and I’m bossin’ out on that big time. Depleted reserves of self esteem, finance, general health and common sense reactions are now in state of constant replenishment. Inner wrongs are being righted. I know I’m in the right place.