Thanks for seein' about a girl, friend. here's where I'm writing my own history—for you, for me and anyone else who needs to laugh to keep from cryin' every once in awhile.

The State of My Union Address

This post is inspired by this comment that I made to my girl Nth yesterday: Yeah. I love that our youthful decisions were so careless, but not the typical kind of careless. Not, I had 4 DUIs by the time I was 21 and 3 kids by 2 different guys kind of careless, but I traded in summers for my worklife soul kind of careless.

We were talking about how we'd both bypassed becoming teachers. I remember the complete and total dismissal I gave Mr. Duncan, who taught us in Teacher Cadets our senior year. I think I literally scoffed. A teacher? I won't make any money as a teacher. I'm not trying to be a teacher. I'm too smart, too this, too that ...

How unbelievably short-sighted. Not only would I have summers - which in the summertime is always the most enticing thing ever - but I'd have more of a purpose. Waiting for 5:30 on a daily basis is not a purpose; it's a death march. And every job undoubtedly has its less-than-desirably underbelly, but we all know I'm not where I need to be. Of course, if anyone has a clue, I'd appreciate the tip because my sight of myself is askew at the moment.

That comment led me to imagine myself in a smoky club, sans beehive plus afro holding a glass of whiskey staggering Winehouse-style to sing this:

I only got paid last night Just paid all my bills online Easy come, easy go And I go back to, I go back to

Buh-roke.

I'm once more poor, it's not enough My job is dull and sucking my soul And life is passing me by And I'm a gerbil on the wheel deprived ...

This is not to be a total downer post. I was just feeling reflective (moreso than usual) and felt the need to get some of the thoughts out of my head to make room for other things ... better things. I'm grown enough to realize that I'm old enough to accept the choices that I've made and to make the best of them and I have been trying, but it'd be completely dishonest of me were I not towish sometimes that I had not been faced with the choice of unhinging my life to help take care of my mother and indirectly my father. I have no idea where I'd have wound up, but I'm pretty sure I would have at least been doing work that I didn't despise.

The worst part is that I'm trying to break free, but I think I expend so much toxic mental energy during the day that I've no energy left to devote to a decent search and I'm stuck. It's worse than purgatory to realize that you have to find things to occupy your time for 7-plus hours a day. Hours that are absolutely wasted and I no longer feel young enough to be wasting time like this. I'm about to have to start all over. I know I've always been considered a late bloomer, but this is starting to feel a bit ridiculous.

In other certifiably random news:

  • I cannot stop playing James Brown's "Living in America." I'm not sure what brought this song back into the mix, but my mind has a funny way of latching on to a particular line of a song especially when I'm driving so "just slide behind the wheel/how does it feel/when there's no destination that's too far/and somewhere on the way you might find out who you are/hey!" just seems about right these days. Plus, I love that he does not enunciate "railroad." He sings rayo-road in the second verse. It makes me laugh.
  • Peanut butter & jelly sandwiches have become my go-to breakfast item the past 2 weeks. I've adultified them by pairing them with a nice cuppa Earl or Lady Grey tea. They remind me of field trips and summer camps and daylong hikes through the woods.
  • Mags is turning 61 next week and I'm starting to work on 61 reasons of love. I'm always so ambitious at the outset, and while I'd hate to think I couldn't come up with 61 reasons, I'm already anxious that I won't, but she'll love it so I will :)

Purgatory is an 8x6 Cubicle

You Know, Something About Him Is Just Off ...