Because I moved from one apartment in the Hub to another I have the exact same bedroom layout. Except that because I'm the New Rachel Who Doesn't Hold Onto Things I threw a lot of stuff away and I was able to squeeze in my big comfy chair. Barely. It's wedged in between the bed and the wall. It's my own little Fortress of Solitude, minus Marlon Brando but just as cold. I can sit there for hours, snuggled up in a blanket and reading or sleeping or doing my correspondence like a good little 80 year old.
Which is my point. I have actual photographic proof that at the age of 32 I've entered the golden years of my life. Behold:
I took this picture because I was kind of enthralled with the moment. It was 7:00pm, I was home in my PJs, reading Persuasion*, wrapped up in my big chair and drinking cocoa from my cute teapot. Cozy, right? The perfect evening. So I got the camera out to capture it all. And once I did I noticed also in the picture the following: my jumbo size bottle of multi-vitamins, my carafe of water that I like to keep by my bed because I get a dry throat at night, my dermatologist recommended hand lotion. And what you can't see is that I have a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. An afghan actually. THAT I CROCHETED!!!
At least I have all my teeth.
*The Masterpiece Theatre Jane Austen-fest begins this Sunday night with Persuasion. They're showing adaptations of all 6 of her books, including 4 new ones, and one on her life. It will be every Sunday night from now until April. Which means that we're going to have to start Sunday night popcorn down at the fam's a little earlier so I can get home in time. That is, popcorn before Andy Rooney comes on 60 minutes. Where do you think I get the 80 year old gene from?