Sunday, March 13, 2011

I'm all old and shizz today.

No seriously. It's the last year of my 30's.

There's some rumor going around that 40 is the new 30, and hopefully that crap is true. I don't feel 39. I feel like my head is up my ass like I did at 29, just not as deep. There's some light at the end of the butt-tunnel, unlike ten years ago, when all there was nothing but shit for as far as the eye could see.

I don't know where ten years went. I mean, I KNOW where they went, but I cannot believe they went the way they did. A two year hospital "stay," a two year trip to the e-wilds of internets, two marriages, a new family, two homes, three jobs, a layoff, a relapse here-n-there, and an odd revolving door of people.

Though I haven't been posting as much as I want to, the ideas have been piling up. I have this giant, metropolis sized pile of post its that house my so called creativity, scribbled in shorthand during red light stops or in line at the drive thru D&D. I just add that stuff to the endless note book of shit that lists what I'm supposed to be doing around the house so I can answer people with a straight face when they ask "what do you do?"


And then they stare at me. They don't ask why. They just say "must be nice."

Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's hell because I spend all my time organizing how I'll spend my time. It's a futile battle, because by doing that, time is totally wasted. I asked for pills to help me push through, but the powers that be said that they're worried I'll stay awake for a month straight, stop eating, and drop to a size 4 like that last time.

As if it was such a bad thing. They're just jealous. Haters! I was productive and skinny, just like society deems all people to be.

But annnyyywhooreee...

Am I any closer to being the person I ever thought I'd become? Thankfully, no. But I'm starting to like myself more, and it only took me 30 some years to begin to be able to do that.

I'm glad to say that my biggest dramas these days is that my sick cat peed on the wall and then tried to dry hump my other sick cat. I'm not sure when the cat got freaky, but I do know there's now a water bottle with his name on it. Dry humping is one thing. Golden showers is a big Bozo No-No. My home is not one of ill-repute. Dirty lil' pussy cat.

Annnyyywhoooreee...Yup. 39.

Life begins at 40, which is the new 30. Which means I have an extra 10 years to pull my head completely out of my ass, and for that, I am forever grateful.



  1. Psh! 5... 27... 39... 78... They are just numbers. In my opinion, even though it's cheesy, you're as old as you feel. Hell! Somedays I feel like I'm 12 again and some days I feel like I'm 75. Today, I'm thinking 67. I just feel like kicking my feet up all day, watching some Wheel of Fortune, and snugging with some kitties and some doggies with horrible breath.

    Also, you can't say that you've done nothing. I've known you since what? July? August? You have done so many amazing things and been such an amazing friend to me. Even just within the last two months... If you didn't force me to go to the doctors, who knows where I'd be... You can also make people laugh without even trying. Which, most people can't do, even when trying their hardest... How many animals' lives have you saved in the past few months?!... And you've been blogging, which you love to do and are doing more of!... Etc.
    (I'd list more, but my professor is giving me the glare to shut down my compooper. lol)

    Hell! You've done more this year than I have! All I do is NOT pay attention in class all year. (Which I'm doing now.)

    You're strong willed and you've come so far already! I know you can do any damn thing you set your mind to. 2011 is your year for the taking! Grasp it by the balls and make it your bitch! :)

    SUPER HNSNS xoxo

  2. Now I'm emo, but in a good way, for a change. xoxoxo HSNNS