Somewhere between 8 and 60

by Joy Monger

It’s funny conundrum that I as I continue growing older I keep the previous ages inside me.

Sometimes, when I have a bad day, all I want is to curl up and have someone play with my hair like when I was three years old.

And lately I’ve been dressing more like the 21-year-old me again.

I feel like one of those Russian dolls with all the little dolls stacked inside of it. And I certainly never feel “just 30”.

Today is an especially good example of this phenomena.

I was just gifted a sweet wooden ladder for my “hay loft” in my shed. It gets hidden away in a secret location so only invited guests can use it (no boys allowed). It makes my secret clubhouse complete! That puts me at about 10, right?

And today I am getting insulation put on the house. I got the most energy efficient level I could and am hoping for a tax write off (I am also getting my water heater wrapped). And I’m really excited! I’ve been planning for this since I bought the house. Which makes me feel somewhere in the neighborhood of 55.

It’s confusing to feel a different age all the time. But I am hoping it will all average out to a really kick ass 30-year-old (with the wrinkle free skin of a child of course!).

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