Something weird and wrong has happened in my universe. I can’t go into the kitchen at the moment, I can’t cook, I don’t want to read recipe books… I’ve lost my cooking mojo. I found this definition of mojo

Self-confidence, Self-assuredness. As in basis for belief in ones self in a situation. Especially in the context of contest or display of skill such as sexual advances or going into battle (author: or making dinner).

I was looking outside today at my garden (pictured above). I think this sums up where I’m at. This is what the garden looked like last year:

Now it’s a friggin’ wasteland of weeds and half dead chilli bushes. I told my muse (husband), who is now on cooking duty, that maybe I’m gearing up for a mid-life crisis. The problem is, I can’t think of anything I would like to do, to mark such a crisis. A friend of mine is having twins at 50 years of age, another friend left her husband and found the love of her life, and yet another friend has decided to train as a kineseologist. None of these options appeal. I was thinking of a trip to Paris, but everyone does that. Plus, my birthday is in the middle of the tourist season. Then I thought about working in a hospital overseas, but I work as a nurse here, so it doesn’t really make much sense. I might just give up cooking, and sit morosely looking out the window for a week or two. I could pout, and look interesting, sip some wine and read a book. Except I still have to go food shopping, and clean the house (and tend to the pet ferrets) so that’s not going to work either.

Meanwhile, the release of my new e-book romance is getting closer. Maybe, I will have a little party to celebrate instead. That, and the return of the sun. I can’t remember the last time it stopped raining, or wasn’t grey outside. French Champagne. That might be the magic needed to pull me from my slump and bring back my mojo…