Pfftt, whatever!
I swear, to all that is sacred and holy, that I really have been trying to come here and write a blog post. But this… this empty screen, it just mocks me. I can’t, for the life of me, just sit down anymore and let the words flow. I mean, they flow and all but they have no coherent meaning to them. I go back and re-read what I’ve written and it sounds like something that a pre-pubescent, pimply faced girl just wrote.
There’s a lot going on in my life and yet there’s nothing going on in my life. Does that even make sense? It does to me. I guess more of what’s going on with me are inner struggles and battles within myself. I have feelings that I don’t want to have. I HATE having feelings that I don’t want to have. However, no matter how much I try to repress the feelings and shove them back into the recesses of my heart and mind, they’re still there. Biting and pinching and letting me know that “Hey, bitch…whether you want us or not, we’re here! Deal with us!” Pfftt, whatever.
The great guy I was dating? Yeah, he took a powder and ditched me…of course he sent me the obligatory email citing…”It’s NOT you at all…it’s totally me”. And naturally, my feelings for him were going way beyond the feelings he was having for me. Thank GOD I had the presence of mind to keep my feelings on the down low though. I have learned that lesson the hard way. Always wait for the guy to put the feelings out there and then reciprocate if you will. It’s easier. Trust me. You see, this is what happens to women like me. I’m honest. I don’t cheat on men. I don’t lie to them. I don’t stalk them or make them feel stifled. I don’t put my needs before their needs. I listen when they need someone. I offer up help wherever help is needed in their life. And then… they dump me. ALWAYS. Not just a few times. ALWAYS. Pfftt, whatever.
I’m a month shy of turning 40 years old. FORTY freaking years old. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for this stage of my life. I had so much more that I wanted to have already accomplished by now. I wanted to be a wife and a mother. Well, I got divorced. Scratch the wife thing off the list. I can’t have babies. Scratch that off of the list. I wanted my dream career of being an English teacher. I’m six college credits into making that happen. I’ll be 44 before I’m in a classroom behind the big, awesome teacher’s desk. I wanted to at least have a nice birthday celebration with the groovy man that was in my life. Well, as we’ve already determined, that won’t be happening. I don’t even have enough friends to get together to have a cool dinner party at some amazing restaurant. Pfftt, whatever.
This is what happens when I sit down to blog. Not much positivity flowing and a whole lot of negativity spewing forth.
Then again, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe vomiting all kinds of negative is good once in a while. Plus, this is my journal. I’m entitled to spew negativity every now and then, right?P
Criminy, I need a therapist! Or sex. Probably both!


