There were once three. Then, there were two, soon to be one. And one really is the loneliest number when the number used to be three. Empty nest syndrome has another name in my head. It is also called, What the hell am I going to do with all this time disorder. You'd think that after a couple decades of very seldom having your own thoughts, your own time, your own money, or time alone in the bathroom; a person would practically drown in all the wonderful ideas of new things to do or old things never done. But, this is not entirely so.
The reason this is not entirely so is because you have forgotten what it's like to have motivation that does not originate in the wants, needs, or desires of the fruit of your loins (or the burden on your back, your choice). So. How to regain the internal cheerleader and rid yourself of the tiny dictators, you may ask?
I'll let you know when I manage it. I think it may involve costumes.
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