I think I'm going through a mid-life crisis.
People laugh when I say that, but I'm almost 35...living til 70 isn't totally unrealistic - I'm half way there. And maybe people are just laughing because it's awkward when someone announces that they're experiencing a mid-life crisis. They're all like, "Ma'am, I'm just here to pack your groceries..."
No....I don't tell complete strangers I'm going through a mid-life crisis. That would just be crazy.
But seriously, I think I'm going through a mid-life crisis.
If I'm half way there, what the eff have I done with my life?????
In December, it will be 6 years since I've been in a relationship. Six years.
Six years. Every minute I'm alone, it gets easier to stay alone. I have major control issues, in that I like to control everything. No man is going to want to be with a control freak. And there aren't even any prospects. Nothing. I got nothing.
In November, I'm 35. I can feel my ovaries shrivelling up. My dreams of having a family with lots and lots of babies is quickly shrivelling up right along with them. Don't get me wrong, I love my baby boy. I love him more than I ever thought was possible. He's not my baby boy anymore though, he's 8. Eight!!! I embarrass him. He rolls his eyes at me. His hand in my hand is almost the same size as mine. He comes up to my shoulder. His feet smell (although his feet have always been smelly, even as a newborn!)
My job, it pays the bills. But it doesn't inspire me, it's not fulfilling. I'm not making a difference in the world. I'm not saving anyone. But it pays the bills. So, that's something, right?
I just feel so unfulfilled. I feel like life is passing me by. Time has swooped in, and it is taking prisoners - ME!!!!
I had big plans. I really did. I was going to be the Prime Minister. Which, okay, sounds a little unrealistic now, but I really believed it when I was 17. I want to go back and go to University with some focus instead of spending ridiculous amounts of money on nothing. I want to go back and save money so I could be a home owner instead of a Coach purse owner. Because, dammit, I can't live in a Coach purse, even though it is really, really pretty...and fuchsia.
Do you think I should go buy a pink Corvette. Maybe that will make me feel better. Oh, or a motor cycle? Okay, I don't have money for that. And I'm not crazy. I'm bored. Not crazy.
Maybe I am crazy...
What am I going to do? How do I make a difference??? How do I make my mark? Geez, sometimes being a dog just seems so much easier. I could pee in the corner and boom - fulfilled.