Sometimes I think I’m just a lucky bitch. To wake up at seven, stay in bed and not panic. When before I would be jumping my ass off to shower and run for work. Instead I turn the tv, watch what’s happening around the world right at the tip of my hands.
Sometimes I think I’m just a lucky slut. Gratefully immerse at sex the nighttime before when orgasms were reached in perfect harmony. When before it was either him or him. If it was me, their all fake and pretentious. We both sleep the night away, tired but satisfied, anyway.
Sometimes I think I’m just a lucky woman. To be immersed with this life, partly retired, partly on welfare, partly homemaker. When before no choice was left for me. Except to labor and grind my days and nights away.
Sometimes I think I’m just a lucky girl. To have come this way seeing what’s in store for me. When before I am ever filled with questions and wonderings on living. At last I could through this day be suitably prepared to conquer another writing day. Spending time doing what was missed in life.