Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
It could be said (with some justification) that these days, I lead an entirely frivolous life – ie, one that’s of no weight, worth or importance. Based on that definition (Macquarie dictionary) my life has always been frivolous. (Raising kids doesn’t raise a blip on anyone’s scale of weighty worthiness: it’s part of the human condition, suck it up.)
So my question is, if I’ve been living this frivolous life since birth, why at no time in the last 72 years have I felt the frivolity? Because you have to admit that whatever the dictionary mighty say, frivolity has overtones of froth, frills and irresponsibility, and while I certainly haven’t trudged my way through sludge and mud all the days of my life, I can swear without fear of contradiction that at no time have I skipped through fields of daisies in a cloud of bubbles.
Presumably this indicates a hole in the heart of my personality. There I was wreathed in clouds of frivolity, and I couldn’t see it.
Ho hum. Bit late now.