Self Serving

It didn’t take long for the luxury of not having to figure out 'what's for dinner?’ wore off. Maybe because the core of who I am depended on it.

When I first entered my era of life without kids at home, I found myself enjoying the new found freedom of not having to worry about feeding other people. In an almost luxurious fashion, I relished in activities like eating cereal in bed, enjoying take out on the sofa (or in bed) while binging whatever current series sparked my fancy, or making a last m…