Oh, hai birthday!
November is here and you know what that means! Birthday month, what what!?
Yes, it is true. Soon, I will be another year closer to death. Shit is gettin’ hard to deal up in this place, y’all.
THIRTY FIVE.
Thirty-fucking-five.
Oy.
That is a number, if I dwell on it long enough, could leave me quivering in the fetal position on the floor of a Stuckey’s bathroom. Cuz, shit just has not turned out according to plan. The never-ending series of roadblocks I’ve had to navigate this last decade have been fucking monumental. To recap: a career so unfulfilling I had to pop numerous anti-depressants just to get out of bed every day only to drink 3-4 nights a week until I blacked out. (Ah, to be so young and so resilient to hangovers…) A trail of dead-end boyfriends. Watching the long, slow decline and untimely loss of my father – who FYI was the only person on the face of this earth ever to love me unconditionally. Constant confusion about exactly who I was, how to cope and what I wanted out of this life. The end result being 10 years of living in paralyzed fear and numerous bad decisions about what I thought was “best” for me — moving to the mountains, moving back home, disappearing to Europe, never-ending false starts and blowing through a shit-ton of cash. Cash, not credit, was the only saving grace of this mess.
And yet.
Despite all this, life IS looking up. I refuse to think otherwise anymore. I’m not exactly sure where the source of all this happiness is coming from – I just don’t want it to go away. The skeptic in me is always waiting for shit to take a turn for the worse but I’ve decided this year, I’m not allowing the universe to piss on my Cheerios. Nope. Not gonna happen. I don’t give a shit what you throw at me.
This year is gonna be BIG.
I’ve got some things to check off life’s To Do List.
So, go ahead. Bring it.