A Time For Mourning

Bruce is almost completely weaned. He refuses to breastfeed unless he wakes up in the middle of the night, or unless it is first thing upon waking. I knew that I would be sad when this day came, even as I longed for it's arrival.

Connect the dots for me.

Dot One: I love spandex. I would rather wear spandex around the house all day than anything else. Especially when they are mid-calf length, because then they make my calf muscles look oh-so-defined. Plus, all I need to do is throw on an athletic tank and a pair of sneakers and I am good to work out.

Dot Two: I am holding on to my dream of working in a coffee shop. How I long to work somewhere where I don't need to wear pumps and blouses and stockings, and where my tongue ring is no longer taboo, needing to be hidden. I also want that nose ring back, desperately, and I if I show a tattoo or two at work, who cares?

Currently, these are all things I have to weigh carefully when I am dressing for work. These desires have almost single-handedly held me back from spending much money on new, professional clothes. I just haven't the desire or the heart.

The one drawback to working in a coffee shop or similar setting is that I will be taking quite the demotion. If there is one thing I love about my job, it is the respect that it carries. I am a professional. I make good money. People respect me.. I have excellent benefits.

Sigh. These are things I will miss.

Dot Three (for consistency): I love fuzzy socks, too.