Living the Dream

In a very real way I am living the life I wanted to as a kid. Sure, if I were to meet my eleven year old self now I’d have to tell her that I didn’t go to Oxford University (and am actually pretty relieved about that) and am not yet a published author (it took Ellis Peters until she was in her seventies, kiddo). However there were a couple of things I remember writing, for school, for competitions and such, about what your future life would look like.

I wrote a lot but there were commonalities, a lot of lovers, a lot of children, friends coming and going from my house. Sure I’m down to two girlfriends these days and none of the children are mine biologically (and yes I’m sorry all you beautiful teenagers but if I’m old enough to be your mother I might as well own it) but friends come and go and know that as far as I can be I will be there for them.

It’s difficult to write this without coming off self-satisfied but I am incredibly lucky. Chronic illness aside, there are so many things I am lucky to be able to do, and I get the Jellicle coming along for the ride with me.

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