So….pretty sure I’m going through a mid-life crisis. I can almost guarantee it actually. But maybe to most it’s not that crazy being that I’m running around with two aliases, which erupted into mass hysteria with a friend request that most thought was a hoax from an “iyaya” (I ya who what?).
I don’t know. I’m slightly caught between what should I do with my life to obviously with four kids it’s already been decided. But it doesn’t always feel enough. I can admit that, right? Maybe my personal fulfillment goes beyond a shitty diaper, but oddly simultaneously my value ignites when my children accomplish major successes especially in lieu of anything athletic….which is borderline offensive and pathetic, but again, I can admit that. But other than them, personal fulfillment doesn’t seem to exist lately.
Which leads me to the next quest for understanding at my ripe age of 38. How do I want people to perceive me? Well, again, not sure. I’m caught between a tube top and and a cashmere sweater, which is really a basic analogy to all things involving my personal reflection. I wanna wear those leopard heels to the grocery store, but the sneakers always win. I have no ability to walk around in fashionable clothing because there is no resemblance of class that permeates when I do so. I only take on two looks: homeless and slut. I don’t know why, it’s just always been that way. So being that I know like 899 out of 900 people in this community being that I teach their children gymnastics, homeless is always the safer option.
But nevermind my looks issue. I really am trying to live my life kinder. Be Kind, Ellen always says, and I do try. It’s like trying to snuggle up next to a Lion. They often look cute and snuggly but they are pretty dangerous. Well that’s me…in a nutshell. I will like you until you fuck up, and then I hate you in like two seconds. I’m really trying to work on that because I’m far from perfect obviously. I mean, I had to create another pretend version of myself to feel perfect. (insert eye roll).
But the assumption is there is more feeling this way around this age, I mean they made a name for it. I smoked like a million cigarettes in my life and always said stupidly that I won’t probably get cancer until I’m 40. Well, great, now I’m almost 40, so I’m one day away from the next doctor appointment that could change my life. But I still don’t regret those years…not one day…it’s just only today that I wonder what I could be doing that makes me feel like that…to just have fun…to find the fire again….and assume that the cards dealt were the ones that were just waiting for me to pick them up, and to not feel like 38…is just too late…to start again.