In exactly eleven days I am going to turn 50. And in an effort to really mark the occasion I've been doing a lot of navel gazing and pondering and contemplating of all of the things rattling around in my tiny little 49.969 year old brain. I won't bore you with all of the really deep and twisted psychological crap that a well-trained team of mental health professionals would be stumped to solve....instead I'll just state the obvious.
I am a neurotic mess of crazypants agoraphobic introvertedness that just shouldn't be out in public polite society without adult supervision.
For the last few weeks, I have been trying a little experiment on myself. In an effort to get out and about, I have been trying to go to public places like libraries and Starbucks and such and do the things that people do at places like libraries and Starbucks.
Can I just tell you that the results of this little experiment have been less than encouraging for my future as a normal human?
My first test was to see if I could strike up a conversation with a stranger in public and just exchange pleasantries about the weather or something inane like the color of the carpet. Instead, I got locked into a forty minute tirade from some lunatic crazy guy that wanted to tell me all about his political theory, why his bitch of a fourth wife just left him, and how we were all going to end up working for the Chinese sewing soccer balls with our teeth if we didn't do something drastic like throw a revolt and build a thirty foot and a half foot wall between us and California.
OK...so much for that idea.
Yesterday, I decided to head on over to the Starbucks with my little ipad thingie to see if I could do a blog post or two and catch up with all of my peeps in the stitchy world.
Can I just say that sitting there with my latte trying to pretend that I was perfectly happy to be there was the second hardest thing I've had to do in the last 30 years? Who knew that writing my drivel on this here blog was so.....intimate? I felt so nekked and exposed and unhappy that I had to try to figure out how to look normal doing something that had heretofore been very unstressful? In other words...this here blog is one of the few places where I feel pretty fine with just being me because for whatever reason, all of you have decided that every village needs its idiot and I was the only qualified applicant.
All of this self-thinking is for the birds, if you ask me. Why I thought it would result in a new life after 49.96 years is beyond me. Quite frankly...it's just exhausting.
Stewey tells me that there is no need to change our ruts/routines, and the next time I get it in my head that our quiet little life is out of order somehow I should just take a nap until it passes. I think he's on to something, so this afternoon is going to find me happily snoodled up in the big girl sleigh bed with him and John Irving for company. (The John Irving library book, that is. Let's not get nuts here, kids).
That's the news for today. And, I am very happy to report that this will conclude this decades's episode of "Let's think about our life and see how we can make it better."
Man....60 is going to be a LuLu!