Aww…I was just riffing with you. Doubled down on the fictional Aunt Gertrude. But I haven’t even started on her equally fictional, soul-crusher of a niece who can’t stop nagging for five minutes about how you ride that bike of yours.
I’m going with still active, then. How are you going to miss out on the extended family rally for poor old Auntie Gertrude, who never did a thing that wasn’t for someone else, by just taking a bike ride? Some people…
Oddly specific for a hypothetical example… Is there a story here? Was Aunt Gertrude still active at 80, or was this the family rallying before she slipped away?
I’m sorry to hear about your breakup, @Randomguy. My go-to for making sense out of changes is gratitude. Reciting a litany of thanks shifts my mood and focuses my energy on what’s real.
As a single adult I had more control over my lifestyle.
We are all waiting for bracketing before making choices about who will be the winning teams. The East and South brackets are set, as of this message. Waiting for West and Midwest.
mr and I were just talking about how shifting the narrative away from outside agents of destiny toward a naturally derived existence has eliminated the facet of cruelty from the story. Those fates are capricious AF. But DNA, not so much.
I’m going to draw another parallel along the lines of predisposed. I know two people who drank until their liver gave out: one who was in his 80’s and another in his 30’s. A different predisposition. It feels like a crapshoot sometimes, whether a person gets the body that chugs along or the body that sputters.
For sure. Eating out, too.
I’ve loaded the recipes form all of my homemade soups, stews, and pasta dishes into MyFitnessPal for the macros and the sodium and potassium levels. A task, but it’s done.