I’ll walk till I figure this out . Once upon a time I was a bad bitch. Suddenly I’m like a wildcat pacing restlessly in a cage.
Being a young mom is hard but almost everything good in life, besides strokes of luck, in general good things require hard work with no immediate gratification. Hard work, for your future self, ya it isn’t a dopamine hit but later it is rewarding as hell. Facts.
It’s way better than living a life of avoiding responsibility. That pain of the 32+ year olds, in a basement suite, my generations version of men, that pain is real. And it really kinda sucks for all of us Gen Z . But I digress, completely:
As the kids get older, the house gets quieter and it’s a scary thing. I am alone with my old self. Lauren Ryckman version 2003 is terrifying
Luckily for humanity I murdered that version, buried it somewhere deep. Time to make/forge yet again a new identity.
This probably won’t get weird or anything.