I sometimes think about how fortunate I am. My life isn’t super amazing. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a ton of friends in my city. No kids. No lover. Just an ex.

I don’t go out every weekend. 

Sort of a homebody. 

But I love what I have.

Good skin.

A clear mind. 

Good wit.

Good friends all over the world. 

Access to Xmas movies. Think. Home for the Holidays and White Christmas.

A parents love.

Siblings.crazy and all.

A dog. 

Benefits. A retirement plan. A way too expensive car. 

However…the midlife factor is there… Why can’t I head to Melbourne on the spur of the moment… Buy tickets to unlimited concerts.. Have a red ten speed bike..

A lover who digs sex in the morning and late evening. Hell..all day. 

A house with a yard for GSD. 

I grew up in fucking enormous houses with my own room. Once my even own floor. But a flat..shit I wouldnt mind a wide tiny house in my mid life or living overseas and crashing in a small Greek or Italian town eating gyros and gelato and cruising on a bike while my dog running next to me. 

Forty nine has been a yawn fest. Not exciting on any level.

This can only mean maybe I shouls shave off my curly locks, shave a few pounds and get out there. 

If you blink…it might be midlifewhat?

Don’t worry I am not buying a sportscar and dating a youngen. Well thinking about the second one.