I got my health. A roof over my head. Food in my belly. Clothes on my back. Friends and family, though slightly behind me and to the left, they are still there. And cute boys. I have all of these things.
So, why am I feeling so disenchanted?
Well, the daily job is a bummer. It doesn't matter that I'm a firm believer my 9-5 does not define me. I mean, I know it isn't who I am, but it still irks me that it's where I am. Sure, it helps pay some of my bills. But not all of them. Money is constantly hanging over my head. I hate the feeling of doing things simply for the green. They say money doesn't buy happiness, but it sure could make the giant axe wielded by bill collectors seem less sharp. The home I live in. Yeah, it's nice enough, but buying a place seems to have put some restrictions on my future. And maybe that was a silly thing for me to do. I miss my cat.
But above everything else?
My birthday is at the end of the month.
It's a big one. A nice round numbered one. And one that has me feeling unaccomplished. Displaced. Stuck.
Most people reflect on their lives around New Year's day, when they are trying to better themselves, but birthdays are when I really get thinking. Is this it for me? Am I where I'll be for the next five or ten years? Is the dissatisfaction warranted? Or am I just acting foolish? Maybe everyone feels this way every now and again.
It still doesn't change the fact that I want to overhaul everything. Shake things up. And stop watching my life pass me by. Honestly, I don't know where I'll be in a year, and I am fully aware fretting and toiling over these things are useless. There's no guarantee on tomorrow, but today just seems unsatisfying, and it's barely started.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not always like this, but for some reason, I am supremely unstoked lately. Not even the promise of birthday cake on the horizon can rectify that.
And that's another thing. Why are birthdays so disappointing for me? I don't know if I've ever had an amazing one. On one hand, I don't want to be alone, but on the other I don't want to plan something for myself. Guess I'm just lazy. And I suspect that's the culprit of most of my issues these days. Laziness.
Maybe this is what they mean when they talk about the birthday blues.
4 comments:
This is why I don't even tell people about my birthday. I bury my head in the sand. Or, as I did on Sunday, my face in the ice cream cake.
Sometimes it's good to wallow, so long as you use those feelings the right way in the end. I usually play Motorhead until I feel motivated to go rock the world back on its heels.
xox
Cake and Motorhead. That just might do it.
You should accept who you are.
A woman is less equipped emotionaly to live alone independently than a man is.
The womens movement have sold you a crock of shit.
You were loaded with a crap job, a mortgage, and the freedom to sit alone at night on what I guess is your 40th birthday.
The feminist movement is a Marxist based desease that aims to destroy what used to be called, "The Nuclear Family"
You bought into it when you were an impressionable teenager.
Take a long look at the roots of feminism and womens equality, you'll find it was really promoted by large corporations and intrusive big government.
They needed the extra workforce, the increased tax revenues, and the expansion of the nanny state.
They created the confused anxious mess in which you are now living in.
It was never about equality.
Women don't empty garbage cans, or work down sewers.
99% of all work related deaths today are inflicted on men.
Its never been about equality.
When was the last time you heard of a feminists rally calling for 50% of work lelated deaths to be female?
You never found the right guy because the one who ticks all the boxes you think apply doesn't exist.
Niether does the right woman.
Men and women today have been torn apart by extreem factions, both from the left and the right.
Find out about Marxism and social engineering.
Find out how you were duped into paying a mortgage and taxes, how you inflated the property boom, about how you lost the chance to find the right guy.
Many Happy Returns.
It isn't my 40th. And this has nothing to do with having, wanting or needing a man. Or Mr. Right.
Post a Comment