Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Marching on...

My last post was about how short February is. Well, it flew by and yet it seems a lifetime has passed since last I wrote. I'm feeling my age and noticing the rapid passing of time as I get closer to "a certain age". Ahem. It's almost heart-stopping to think that my life is more than half over. I have less left than I've already lived! Don't mean to be morbid, but it's something with which I struggle when I analyze it too much. Which is all the time. I should stop thinking so much.

Then I find my thoughts rambling over to the "what have I done with my life"? feeling. And I don't know the answer. As such a type A person who always had a "plan" and was driven to stay on the road to success (or at least follow my dreams), I find it oddly ironic that I look back and think I've done next to nothing and more-so that I look forward and have absolutely no idea where I'm going. I guess it all goes back to how I never planned to live this long. I thought my crazy escapades would have taken me off this earth long ago. And quite frankly, they should have. Sigh. I don't know if it's a cruel joke that I'm the one who is still alive while so many dear friends have had their lives cut short. They WANTED to live. I didn't. So...what made it so that I'm still here? I'm the only person I know who isn't afraid of dying. I'm afraid of OTHER people dying, for sure.

People laugh when I say I feel old. I know, by comparison, I'm not *that* old, but * I * feel old...I mean thirty-fourteen? Yikes. I can't even think about it. It's 14 years past what I considered my expiration date. But if I say that out loud, people think I belong in the looney bin. And maybe I do. Sometimes I think it would be easier to be locked up with no expectations of being responsible or even cognizant. I don't know, but it's a thought. Probably not one I should admit.

On another note, I am sick and tired of being fat. I am doing everything I can to return to my lean ways, but somehow, my body is betraying me. I exercise more than I did before, eat less and still I continue to be large. Huge. Enormous. It's so frustrating! Why can other people follow diets and exercise so easily and the pounds fall off? It's probably my own fault for wrecking my metabolism. Karma bites you in the (fat) ass every time.

Ok...enough kvetching for one evening. I don't know if this is helpful to anyone. Maybe I should make use of my <delete> button.

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