I am no Martha Stewart. I never could decorate nor keep plants alive. I never ever exercised. I certainly didn’t arrange flowers. I didn’t like to eat anything but junk. Ok, so eating better is a work in progress! Oh, and did I mention that I don’t cook. I can, yet I am just not interested.
I have no explanation. It’s actually very very weird. I have literally started tapping into my inner creative self.
As I have mentioned in previous posts, as many as four years prior to getting the diagnosis, I had pretty much checked out of my world. Depressed. Apathetic. Issues with my foot, shoulder, hand…all on my left side. Lack of concentration..blah blah blah.
Fast forward to 2019.
I have literally decorated my house. Like even going to stores and actually shopping for things. I carry a fricken tape measure in my purse. Who the heck am I?
I arrange flowers and make a weekly trip to @traderjoes as they have the most beautiful selection. I work out three to four days a week! I plan trips. Maybe a weekend in Asheville, a trip to Colorado or a horse ranch in Maggie Valley, NC. All I know is that it seems that it took a traumatizing incident to wake me up and literally smell the flowers.
Lesson. Don’t wait to live. Don’t wait to do the things you love. Don’t wait for bad news.
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