I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I have absolutely no life plan. I did at one time, or at least I thought I did. Then life happened, as it turns out, it often does. The resulting spiral of self-doubt, panic and analysis paralysis has lasted almost half my life now. It’s time to figure it out, right? So why can’t I?
It’s another turn of the wheel, as they say. 2015 was better than I thought it would be. The rear view is handy like that. I’ve never actually written my goals/resolutions/whatever down. It’s too permanent for me and I apparently have issues committing to myself. That’s something I’d like to change. So let’s see what all the fuss is about and start working on goal #1 straight out of the gate:
“It’s just your dad saying ‘hello.’”
There’s a silly papier-mâché star that sits on the top shelf of the baker’s rack in our kitchen at Christmastime. It refuses to stand on it’s own two points and jumps to freedom at every opportunity when I try to anchor it with hidden tape. It’s been bugging the ever-loving heck out of me for a week but I love that silly star so I tolerate it.
Hubs took it’s latest attempt at freedom to make a beautiful connection for me. Instead it made me burst into tears asking in my most wavering and blubbery voice, “Why would you say that to me?!”
I seriously just read the headline of a suggested post entitled “How to Assemble the Perfect Fall Cheese Board” and I honestly think I broke my eyeballs rolling them so hard. Clearly my blog interests are varied and strange, and I do love me some cheese, but that aggregator has no idea who I really am. My interest in assembling the perfect fall cheeseboard begins at cheese and ends with consuming the aforementioned cheese.
So I’m taking a class now. It’s something I’ve started and stopped several times – this new version of me. I’m not entirely sure what I’m working towards, but I know it’s different than what I was and what I am now. I suppose it’s supposed to be a better version of me, but I’m not really sure what would be better or why I need to really be better. I do know that ever since my career hit a huge speed bump – read position elimination at a crucial point in my path – I have been adrift and unsure of almost everything.
Today a bunch of Trader Joe’s Wheat Crisps soaked up my feelings and it felt amazing. It would only have been better had they sidled up to a personal-pan-sized wheel of Brie with some raspberry jam and gone all in.
Work has been rough lately.
Oh, you too? (Hugs)
There are moments, usually in the middle of one of Miss O’s tantrums or the aftermath of a tantrum, that I find myself wondering if this is the moment that I’ve ruined our relationship. Is this the moment when I’ve said something that will forever change how she feels about me as a mother or as a person?
Last night I was introduced to the amazingness of BuzzFeed’s Whine About It. It’s a lovely little no frills, low key, weekly video bit done by staff writer Matt Bellassai and it’s all I am right now. Why? Because I needed that little burst of Whine and I definitely need it to be about all this Adulting I am finding so hard to do right now.
Last week I copped to how I’m a member of the Funky Bunch. Ok, no, I am not the chick on the right rocking those kneepads like nobody’s business. But since I have owned my funk, I gained perspective into it. I don’t exactly have good vibrations yet, but at least there’s an outside chance.
No need to send a search party, I know I’ve been MIA for a bit. I wish I could say I won the lottery and I’m checking in on society from my private island, but sadly, that is not the case. I finally managed to lift my head just above the oppressively pounding surf that surrounds that lovely island and not choke on the water, long enough to take a deep, live-saving breath. I have been in a FUNK friends and not the James Brown kind.
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Suburban Jackpot 
