Yeah, I'm here. A little brainless still but here.
Hold on a minute. I need to trim my fingernails if I'm going to type more than a Facebook status update. Talk amongst yourselves. I'll give you a topic. Tea Baggers are neither into tea or bags or teabagging. Discuss.
Ahhh...that's better. I'm stubby fingered. There is a pile of long nails on the desk. Bye-bye manicure. That's ok. I'll sacrifice my amazing nails so I can show up here again.
Anyhow, in recent news, I turned 36 years old on Saturday. Unlike my 35th birthday, which is a good even type number, I've taken this birthday kind of hard. You'd think that I'd have another four years to have a midlife thing turn up but no...it's gotta be this birthday. This damned birthday stuck it's finger in my cake.
I don't know that it's important that I detail everything that has hit me hard about my age. I'm in a life transition. That ain't nothing new. Life changes.
What's different now is that this transition doesn't have a list of bullet points I can follow. Graduating high school and entering the adult world? That's easy. Go to school, get a job, pay your own bills. Begin a family life? No problem. Fall in love, commit, procure babies, pets and a cabinetful of cleaning products. Deal with poop and vomit and whining and boogers wiped on the walls and meltdowns and giggles.
Transition from several of the good old traditional roles to include a new role without a gameplan? Confusing as hell. I feel so behind.
This leaves me all quiet and pondery...and isolated...and has my energy levels sludging along like tar. I'm forging something new in all things that make me ME and there isn't enough Dr. Pheel generalizations to form a mold to smoosh myself into. Oh-pur doesn't have a powerpoint for me.
Yet, and we're still in recent news, my husband and I have worked together to find me a gameplan. Some of the materials to sculpt my own mold. Hopefully. We'll know for sure shortly.
Messy materials. Another good reason to clip my fingernails.
Thanks be to Jeebus and my tubal ligation that one of those materials is not poop. It's been under my fingernails before and let me tell you, if my life is in transition, there's the silver lining.
I can live my life just fine without ever having to change another diaper.
Gonna go stick my finger in some leftover cake though.
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