Like Garfield, Mondays are not my favourite day of the week, my body, although not as hairy as Garfield’s, is round even in places where it shouldn’t be round. And I love eating pasta as well.
I dragged myself out of bed into the bathroom, and the mirror tells me that my scruffy hair and puffy eyes won’t be improved by any “miracle” product in my little makeup supply.
Beauty was definitely not one of the gifts I was granted when the almighty maker thought of me.
But, I do the best I can with what I have. And like Garfield, I don’t care much about my physical appearance because I love myself no matter what ❤️
I get ready, I put lipstick on, and I let my red lips tell me I still got it, despite my almost four decades of life.
I take my computer and make my way to the coffee shop, where I sit for hours, writing sometimes, and at times waiting for the inspiration, the muse, the spirit (or whatever you might want to call it)
And If I am lucky, and the “spirit” visits me, then you might see some posts here. And if not, you must be sure that a delicious warm lasagne is waiting for me at home to help me face Tuesdays with a more positive heart.