Madame Preside… Pfffft! Yeah, Right!
At 0347 today (Yes, I was born in the middle of the night. Hello? Vampire.) I will officially be old enough to run for the office of The President of the United States of America. Don’t worry. I won’t. Although, perhaps if I had pursued such aspirations earlier in life then I wouldn’t find myself in such a funk (and Redneck Hell, USA) today. Oh. Wait. A president did come from here, didn’t he? Never mind. Irrelevant. I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah … funk.
It is true. I am in a funk. It’s not about my age. Birthdays come and go. I can’t stop time. The clock cannot be reversed. Age is relative. I might as well just go with the flow, right? Well… I lie. A little. My funk is indirectly related to my age for this simple fact:
I had a list of things to do before I turned 35.
Not a tangible list, mind you. Never written down. Never voiced. Forever fluid and highly malleable, the list has resided in the recesses of my highly unstable bipolar mind. But, it existed. And, here I am. I have reached the age of thirty-five and I’ve failed miserably at most of the items on that list. Not all, but most. I try to remind myself that there are some rather substantial extenuating circumstances that contributed greatly to that failure but as valid and unchangeable as those factors are… they still feel like excuses. I hate excuses. Hell, I hate failure… hence, the funk.
[To my hardcore Christian God-has-a-plan-for-you friends: You might want to stop reading now. If you choose to continue, well… you know not to preach to me, right? Remember, I know all the “right” answers.]
This life that I am living… this isn’t how it was supposed to play out. I am supposed to have it all figured out by now. My existence, and subsequently that of my children, should be more stable and defined. I don’t think God wants me to live like this (No, I will not elaborate.). And, if He does… if this is God’s grand plan for my life? Well, then God and I have bigger problems than I thought. Yes, I still believe in God.
A quote I have been hoarding for two years, just for this particular birthday:
“When you’re five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties you know how old you are. I’m twenty-three, you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties something strange starts to happen. It’s a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I’m – you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you’re not. You’re thirty-five. And then you’re bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it is decades before you admit it.” ~Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants
The beginning of the end? I sure as hell hope not. Watch out, because I will bust out of here and…
I. AM. JUST. GETTING. STARTED.