pocketful of possibility
Last month I felt old and depressed. Like a dent in a rusted-out Ford.
It could have been the rain – carrying an umbrella puts me in a bad mood. All that delay – what didn’t I put off in June? Could have been. But wasn’t.
It was me. Just me. Full of excuses, wasted days and wait-a-minutes.
This month it’s different. And I don’t mean I’m-gonna-lose-five-pounds different, which really isn’t different at all, just something you say to make yourself feel better when you’re wolfing down chocolate and Pinot Grigio.
I mean real different.
This month I’m smiling with sweet feet – new pedi bar down the street – a sunny disposition and a whole pocketful of possibility.
I’m all about making things happen. Being more like Billy Joe and gettin ‘er done.
I’m optimism and a toothy grin with a good looking man beside me.
Life just doesn’t get any better.