Okay, not really, but what is your definition of "middle-aged"? Isn't it halfway between birth and death? If so, then no one knows when they're middle-aged because no one really knows when they're going to die. But if you take conservative estimates, 43 is middle-aged. And I'd much rather not be that, thank you very much.
Yet, in a little over a week, I very much will be that. Like it or lump it.
So.
What goals should I set before I turn 45?
Because really. I'm not dead. So what I'm not living in a penthouse overlooking midtown with my beautiful wife and children? I am living in NYC, overlooking a beautiful wall of trees. Soon as I get my car paid off, I'll be collecting money again. Which will make me more attractive for the Right One...
*skiiiiirk*
I don't feel like it. And not in any doomed, depressed, o-woe-is-me way. But in a middle-aged widow's way. I mourn the passing of the Right One, and I just don't feel interested in trying to do it all over again. Only, in this case, my Right One never existed. But I feel like I've already done all the work about relationship. I've fought, I've loved, I've learned, I've grown. The only thing I didn't get out of it are children. (Or a court-order to pay child-support and alimony).
So what's the fuss? I'll enjoy your children. Your poleclimbers who are eager to teach Daddy how to do the same. Your nervous criers who need some tough Daddy love and a lollipop on the way back to school. Keep telling me those stories. Those are lullabies for someone like me. I promise, I do smile, and I feel very warmly a part of the human race when you share those with me.
But why do I not want to become a full-time participant?
Well, let's see. I still sting from the last time I trusted someone (and this was not too long ago either. I mean within the last few months). The pain is not worth the good times. The pain SUCKS. It makes me furious. Fresh, bright sparkly motes of blazing-hot want-to-kick-somebody's-ASS furious.
Because when I was in my shell, I was f^cking HAPPY. I wasn't causing any harm to anyone and I was happy. But YOU had to come along and pressure me. You had to pry your f^cking blade into the seam of the shell and pry and pry and PRY until you exposed all the sensitive parts. And you got me to trust you, and even depend on you to take care of what you exposed.
And then what did you do?
You got me all wrong. You accused me of being someone I'm totally not, and you did it just to serve yourself. You worked to make me vulnerable, layed me out for display, then kicked it all over into the sand because you wanted your own way.
I was FINE before you.
I NEVER needed you.
And now it hurts just to think of your name.
*exhale*
Readers, I don't even know who I'm writing about. There isn't anyone who honestly fits this description. Whatever I've gone through in the last few months could not possibly have earned this kind of anger. Well, not completely.
So I must assume that what I'm feeling is from transference. This fury inside is an old one. It's older than the internet.
It is, of course, unresolved anger that I bear for my mother. Textbook case. Unresolved blappity bloop. I'm a damn stereotype.
Hate that.
Suffice it to say, my shell was the thing that protected me from ... stuff. If you wanted me out of it, then you should have
TAKEN
F^CKING
CARE
OF
ME.
If you didn't want to take that responsibility--then I invite you heartily to LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE now.
Okay, back to your regularly scheduled drama ...
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
I Now Am The Answer To Life, The Universe, And Everything...
(Originally 10/8/06)
...and I embrace it. Today, anyway.
I have a development in the works that I can't speak of yet, even to you my faithful reader, until it gets rejected or accepted by the executive producer I submitted it to.
Unfortuantely, I haven't heard from the exec in a bunch of days, but I've seen the same guy communicating freely with others in his cypher, so it feels like an avoid.
This week I'm on vacation from work. Tonight and tomorrow night I shall be tucked away in a midtown Manhattan hotel courtesy of the Savings Account gimmick at my embattled bank. It took months to secure it, but secure it I did. I should finish packing, but I haven't caught up to you lot in a week now.
I was going to change my blog name to "The Answer To Life, The Universe, And Everything", which according to Douglas Adams, I now am, but I didn't know if it would have messed up the URL. Plus I'd just have to change it back next year.
So I'm not 175 lbs., but I am 190 lbs., for a winning total of 22 lbs lost since March! Yay me! That second creditor is paid off and in December, a third one will be. My cash flow is going to be all positive for the rest of the year, and for the entirety of 2007--savings, savings, and more savings. It is possible to recover from a total life meltdown, it seems, but I don't know how others do it without help.
Everybody needs help. I suppose when I'm independent again, I will try to be a helper. Well, more of a helper. Like, outside of my professional life kind of helper. You know, like, the helping STRANGERS for FREE kind of helper. Because how does anyone make it alone in this world? Especially THIS world.
Oh, and I'm a friend of Matt Atherton's, so that's all right then.
See you in a few days!
...and I embrace it. Today, anyway.
I have a development in the works that I can't speak of yet, even to you my faithful reader, until it gets rejected or accepted by the executive producer I submitted it to.
Unfortuantely, I haven't heard from the exec in a bunch of days, but I've seen the same guy communicating freely with others in his cypher, so it feels like an avoid.
This week I'm on vacation from work. Tonight and tomorrow night I shall be tucked away in a midtown Manhattan hotel courtesy of the Savings Account gimmick at my embattled bank. It took months to secure it, but secure it I did. I should finish packing, but I haven't caught up to you lot in a week now.
I was going to change my blog name to "The Answer To Life, The Universe, And Everything", which according to Douglas Adams, I now am, but I didn't know if it would have messed up the URL. Plus I'd just have to change it back next year.
So I'm not 175 lbs., but I am 190 lbs., for a winning total of 22 lbs lost since March! Yay me! That second creditor is paid off and in December, a third one will be. My cash flow is going to be all positive for the rest of the year, and for the entirety of 2007--savings, savings, and more savings. It is possible to recover from a total life meltdown, it seems, but I don't know how others do it without help.
Everybody needs help. I suppose when I'm independent again, I will try to be a helper. Well, more of a helper. Like, outside of my professional life kind of helper. You know, like, the helping STRANGERS for FREE kind of helper. Because how does anyone make it alone in this world? Especially THIS world.
Oh, and I'm a friend of Matt Atherton's, so that's all right then.
See you in a few days!
Monday, May 7, 2007
I'm In My Early Forties Now....
(Originally Oct 8 2005)
...and eeeaaaaaaauuuuccccccch.
I'm taking this opportunity to blog from work (like you don't do it! ;p) because I'm still without home access.
Yes, I finally yanked my wires, boxed up more than my books, and am in the middle of moving to NJ.
I thought I'd blog today because it happens to be my birthday.
So let's review--
On my 30th birthday, I watched from the sidelines in Neosho, MO, as the Golden Child of their community was given an auditorium full of praise and celebration from his father, mother, wife, twin girls, in laws, co-pastor, and congregation on the occasion of HIS 30th birthday. I, on the other hand was a student who was forbad from interracial dating while trying to rep for my New York homies.
When it became The Year 2000, on the very night, I was lying on a wall outside the Post Office where I worked overnight, on a break, lamenting the fact that I wasn't in New York celebrating an event that I'd looked forward to ever since I understood what "The Future" meant. I'm also lamenting the absence of flying cars, but as patterns go, I'd have lost mine by now anyway.
Birthdays #31-#38 were starkly avoided as that they earmarked another year of Climbing But Not Arriving. Somewhere in there I entertained a fanatic girlfriend who, because she accepted a date from me felt sure it meant God have destined for us to marry--a notion I was content with until I found her to be a controlling, clingy nutjob who freaked OUT when I broke up with her. My father died somewhere in there too. And so did his sister, with whom I was close.
On my 39th birthday, I was adjusting to having broken up with the one who I would have married and so I fled to New York City for a wild three-night, Holden Caufieldian hotel stay. It was nice. It made me decide that I could live in NY and commute to Trenton for a little while, which I did, hoping that I'd get my NY license before too long. It still hasn't come.
On my 40th birthday, I changed the name of my blog.
Today, I came to work to set my listings in order, have an appointment with a Real Estate client be broken by them no-showing, and end my third week as a Real Estate agent equate to -$435.89 (roughly) profit.
I thought I'd just share that.
On the upside; also today a former therapy client called me by mistake today and so I asked them how things had progressed since we last met. By her accounts it seems that every perception I had in her situation was 100% accurate and she had to make the changes I had suggested she make--although at the time she didn't want to make them. She thanked me, after laughing about how strange it was that she called me accidentally, and validated my efforts to counsel her. That was one of those "Wow, I Really Needed That!" moments in life that gives a true nod to the presence of One Much Bigger Than Me in the universe.
How much worse can my life get by the time my 42nd birthday rolls around? I shudder to think. I probably asked myself the same question last year, and look where THAT got me.
Still and all, I think its bound to get somewhat better. No?
So now I'm going to B&N, buy me some CC cookies from McD's, and read a graphic novel sans euros until the time I must go and move more crap to NJ. Then return to NY because my eviction notice, arriving Wednesday, gave me 6 business days to vacate my premises and Monday is a holiday.
So *nyahh*.
...and eeeaaaaaaauuuuccccccch.
I'm taking this opportunity to blog from work (like you don't do it! ;p) because I'm still without home access.
Yes, I finally yanked my wires, boxed up more than my books, and am in the middle of moving to NJ.
I thought I'd blog today because it happens to be my birthday.
So let's review--
On my 30th birthday, I watched from the sidelines in Neosho, MO, as the Golden Child of their community was given an auditorium full of praise and celebration from his father, mother, wife, twin girls, in laws, co-pastor, and congregation on the occasion of HIS 30th birthday. I, on the other hand was a student who was forbad from interracial dating while trying to rep for my New York homies.
When it became The Year 2000, on the very night, I was lying on a wall outside the Post Office where I worked overnight, on a break, lamenting the fact that I wasn't in New York celebrating an event that I'd looked forward to ever since I understood what "The Future" meant. I'm also lamenting the absence of flying cars, but as patterns go, I'd have lost mine by now anyway.
Birthdays #31-#38 were starkly avoided as that they earmarked another year of Climbing But Not Arriving. Somewhere in there I entertained a fanatic girlfriend who, because she accepted a date from me felt sure it meant God have destined for us to marry--a notion I was content with until I found her to be a controlling, clingy nutjob who freaked OUT when I broke up with her. My father died somewhere in there too. And so did his sister, with whom I was close.
On my 39th birthday, I was adjusting to having broken up with the one who I would have married and so I fled to New York City for a wild three-night, Holden Caufieldian hotel stay. It was nice. It made me decide that I could live in NY and commute to Trenton for a little while, which I did, hoping that I'd get my NY license before too long. It still hasn't come.
On my 40th birthday, I changed the name of my blog.
Today, I came to work to set my listings in order, have an appointment with a Real Estate client be broken by them no-showing, and end my third week as a Real Estate agent equate to -$435.89 (roughly) profit.
I thought I'd just share that.
On the upside; also today a former therapy client called me by mistake today and so I asked them how things had progressed since we last met. By her accounts it seems that every perception I had in her situation was 100% accurate and she had to make the changes I had suggested she make--although at the time she didn't want to make them. She thanked me, after laughing about how strange it was that she called me accidentally, and validated my efforts to counsel her. That was one of those "Wow, I Really Needed That!" moments in life that gives a true nod to the presence of One Much Bigger Than Me in the universe.
How much worse can my life get by the time my 42nd birthday rolls around? I shudder to think. I probably asked myself the same question last year, and look where THAT got me.
Still and all, I think its bound to get somewhat better. No?
So now I'm going to B&N, buy me some CC cookies from McD's, and read a graphic novel sans euros until the time I must go and move more crap to NJ. Then return to NY because my eviction notice, arriving Wednesday, gave me 6 business days to vacate my premises and Monday is a holiday.
So *nyahh*.
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