If I can't die at a reasonably young age, which I consider early enough to avoid internment in a geriatric-care facility as well as avoiding the burdening of my children with my care - coming from a history of Alzheimer's, I've given this some thought - then I would sincerely like to retain all of my faculties AND my physical capabilities and live to be something like 1000 years old.
It's the only way I'll get to learn and do everything that I'm interested in, you see.
For example, today I cut apart a sturdy cardboard box in order to make simple weaving forms to see if I can come up with some jute/sisal appearance miniature rugs. While collecting all of the necessaries, I went to Amazon.com to check on my latest book order (TOTALLY addicted to used books) and ended up spending 2 hours adding more books to one of my 16 wish lists. I am soooooooo glad they finally let us name them to tell them apart...!
So now that I am finished with Amazon.com, it should be time to make the forms, right? Wrong. Now, in my gestationally-diabetic chronologically-chained necessity, I have to go eat lunch. This will entail disturbing the sleeping cat, who has finally decided he wants to be a lap cat and actually sleeps attached to one of the humans instead of hiding under the beds. As I get out of the bed to accomplish this (read: overturned turtle attempting to right itself), I will encounter the bag of knitting projects that are in various stages of incompletion for the baby. The frothy pink and orange boucle blanket sticking out of the top of the bag is deliciously attractive and screams for my attention at all hours.
It's a good thing I'm an insomniac.
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