Feeling groovy, sort of

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That was the song in my head when I woke up: 59th Street Bridge Song, the Simon and Garfunkel version. I don’t know why.  I wasn’t really feeling groovy, except that we were heading home and the things that I’ve arranged are starting to happen.

I’m mostly scared about leaving my husband, excited about buying an apartment, curious what my new life is going to be like. Richer in some ways and poorer in others, I’m sure. I’m afraid of dying alone, even though with a husband who’s seventeen years older than me, staying with him or not isn’t likely to change that much, statistically speaking in any case.

 

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