Sigh. Not so much. First, to be clear. I love my birthday. I know it isn't in vogue at my age to like it so much, but I do. If nothing else, I'm impressed I haven't killed myself in a car accident before now (anyone who has ridden in a car with me can attest to the problems a limited attention span can cause to one's capabilities as a driver.)
So, generally speaking, I am happy weeks before my birthday as I anticipate the fun of being delightfully happy all day long. Presents are lovely, yes. But it is nice to have people be nice all day just cause it's my day.
Inadvertent though it may have been, something about being told to compare myself to my younger version makes me want to weep. I loved younger me. I was confident. I still though I could choose my own destiny etc etc.
I look at myself now and NOTHING has gone the way I thought it would. I am in no way living the life I envisioned for myself. I think I've mostly learned to be happy with who and what I am, but it doesn't mean that I might not have wished things had gone differently.
And, of course, then I get to think about where I am today, literally specifically today.
Living with my parents is exhausting. They are lovely, and I totally appreciate the fact they let me move in with them as I work through this stupid house purchase, but it doesn't mean I have enjoyed living through months of being in a 10x10 room with most of my stuff in storage and unable to find ANYTHING I'm looking to find. I am trying to be respectful of Dad's desire to be the only one to answer the phone and to not be on my phone in the house and to come in a respectful time when I have been out and to do all the other crap you do when living in someone else's house. I'm sure I'm failing at all sorts of stuff and annoying the hell out of them too. But every minute makes me tired. I've gone to bed at 8pm so many times, I think my parents are slightly freaked out.
I am exercising. That is great. But it is an obsession because I can't control anything else in my life. Quite honestly, I hurt most days when I finish and I always dread starting. The kids make me feel guilty for leaving them to go run, and then I'm tired and disgusting but still at work for another hour or two trying to get pages done.
And this is the year that I can't seem to motivate the kids, get them to meet deadlines, etc etc and I have a weird mother trying to get my job (ha, she can have it) and next year I'm responsible for the regular yearbook AND the district 100th anniversary book. I'm certain THAT'S going to go well.
I am buying my 4th home. Great. But I am paying more than I wanted to pay. I'm going to have less money once I buy than I planned on having. And I am without a doubt moving into the most disgusting place I've ever bought. Possibly seen. Seriously dirty and the more I think about it the more I think how much I need to do to be able to fix up the home...with money I don't have.
Oh, and relationships.....hahahahahahaha. To have met a guy that I think is really amazing and fantastic and to now be uncertain about if it will ever work itself out or if I have just been wrong about him and us makes me just a little bit nuts. But on top of everything else? It just all makes me want to weep. Right here. Right now. Non stop. And I can feel the acid in my stomach burning holes through the lining. Super.
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