I am at a loss for pinpointing exactly what it is I want to write here. I guess I could say that my post has a certain je ne sais quoi, but my writing doesn't hold the chic mystique that that phrase implies. What is certain is that there is something inside of me that needs to escape and I haven't found the right venue for it yet. Will it be in writing, or art? Or perhaps housework? Maybe I just need to sit down with a friend and blab until whatever it is comes tumbling out.
It's 6:30 am and the house is quiet. But I still feel the crushing force of everyday life all around me.
I grew up with strong adults who kept chaos, both material and emotional, at bay. At least that was my perception as a child. In retrospect, I know that life was far from always being a bed of roses for my parents. But they did a great job of dealing with what was handed to them, good or bad. I am not very good at keeping chaos at bay. In fact, I am quite certain that a good portion of this chaos is my own creation.
It's probably not a good sign that I still think in terms of when I grow up... At 39, I am still wondering what I'm going to do with my life. My wiser, older friends would say, Honey you've got time. My younger friends would say, Aren't you supposed to have it together already? I guess I've just hit that middle-aged stride (somewhere between a childish, happy jaunt and a worn out hobble). I don't want to play on the swings anymore but I don't want to talk diapers with the moms on the park benches either. I thought that not fitting in was a pubescent phenomenon. I guess not because I still have the acne to show for it.
The day is coming. What will I do with it? Maybe I'll take a nap.
I think avoidance might be an issue. I might also be overbooked. It's like I've been bumped, but there isn't a later flight. Hmmm... What to do....
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5 comments:
It may be the fear of turning 40 and thinking you have not achieved what you subconsciously think you ought to have. Don't worry, there is nothing you were supposed to have done, but learned to have lived with yourself and like it. That's all.
One day at a time, one moment at a time, one goal at a time. There is no magic age for feeling grown up. If there is? I'm still waiting for it.
And I see myself in your writings. I used to find myself bored and restless around typical playdate mommy talk. I love being a mom but I yearn for something more challenging and engaging of the broader faculties.
Ok, child duties calling. Sigh.
I really appreciate you guys coming back and reading after my extended blog vacation. I always feel better when I read your blogs and know that life can be as difficult for others as it sometimes seems to be for me. It shakes me out of my egocentricity...is that even a word?
i am you and you are me. i just managed another awesome night of not sleeping at all.
you pretty much said exactly what i'm feeling right now -- the whole not fitting in/what will i be when i grow up, etc. etc. etc.
is 5:19 a.m. to early for vodka? or to late?
I feel so much like this all the time! I don't exactly think "when I grow up," but I never FEEL grown-up. I started my family (children) when I was 13 years older than my parents were when they started theirs. I juggle so many more things than they did. But my memories are still of them being so "with it." I know they weren't. Looking back, I think I'm probably light years ahead of them. But I wonder if they FELT grown-up. I wonder what my kids think of me. Do they view me as the perfect multi-tasker and think they'll be able to do it all when they are grown-up, too? Or do they see my stress and all that comes with it and think, "There's no WAY I'm going to be like that when I grow up!" I've thought about doing a post on this myself.
"Overbooked." I think that holds a lot of weight. And whatever it is that needs to come out, let it come out how it needs to. I love your writing. I'm pretty sure by what I've seen you are quite artistically creative. And I know I'd love to listen to you "blab."
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