Feeling old.

You know how I know I’m old? Well, besides 2 day hangovers, endless bills and the need to get a good night sleep, I am crazy into home decor lately.

Really this shouldn’t be shocking. I live for color, warmth, pizzazz (I forgot about that word! Welcome back, sassy friend). The home is just the next, grown-up frontier.

One Kings Lane is the stuff of my fantasies. I spend eons in Home Goods. I. Can’t. Stop. Salivating.  It’s slightly silly because I rent, although I never did get the whole not decorating if you don’t own it thing. It’s not a padded cell!

Other ways I’m old? I yelled at two teens to slow down on 93 yesterday. I was in bed by 930p a couple of Fridays ago.

But I’m okay with it. I’m alive and I’m healthy! I’ve made it nearly 29 years, with hopefully many more to go. I have a place to call home that I can decorate (even if most of that decorating happens for free on my Pinterest Dream House board). Being “old” is a good problem to have.

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