Woke up this morning

This morning I woke up before dog and mom. Lying in bed, I had some confusion. Am I really turning 50 this summer? Me? It was dreamlike: maybe I was dreaming about angst or maybe I really have some. Hard to tell.

I'm stealing a little time just now while my brother has taken our 82 year old, dementia inflicted, wobbly on her feet, mom to breakfast. My big hope for today was to be able to read a novel. Just after awakening this a.m., I realized there was something funky on the book I've been reading. It didn't smell like shit but it looked like it. My 5 month old girl puppy was just spayed and is sleeping on my bed because she is wearing one of those conical collars to keep her from licking her wound. Rather, she is sleeping on my bed this week because she can't fit into her kennel with that ridiculous collar. I presumed that she had the humiliating experience of shitting where she slept until I was putting the blankets in the washer and realized that she'd merely thrown up. Great. Truly great. Now I can scrape the weird stuff of the back of the book I'd thrown in the trash and not worry about it being anything too toxic.

Okay, back to 50. I'm kind of a young person and sort of had the attitude that I would just live to be a hundred so the first half of life with immature behavior, heartache, etc. will just be a warm-up for the second part that would be calm travel including museums and lots of time to sit in a shady corner at the Alhambra drawing the stone buildings with no worry about time. The actuality is a little rougher with a puppy on a leash and my hand guiding my mom around.

I think that the thing that will get me past this truly mid-life stall is a project. Perferably one I can work on from home, has nothing to do with my family and is creative.