I'm trying to come to terms with that number. That 5, that 0. It seems so evil. 50. I guess my problem with it all is that I don't feel 50. I really don't. Mentally I feel about 18 maybe. Physically, well sometimes I feel older than 50 especially this week *cough* *sneeze* *wheeze*. Fifty means more than half my life is over. It means I'm no closer to doing the things I want to do. It means I have to start thinking about things like retirement funds and AARP and life insurance. All that is just too adult. I'd rather be going to a concert or thinking about that fabulous pair of Fluevog's I want to buy. I don't want to think about who's going to take care of me in my old age.
Sometimes I feel like I've missed out on some great times. Actually I don't just think it, I know it. When the one you're with has no zest for life, no interest in exploring the world, no desire at all to do anything other than maintain the mundane life that he's leading, eventually a few things happen. You fall right into the same rut, which I did, for far too long. Or you snap out of it and decide to do the things you want to do, with or without him. Which is now what I have been doing. Life is too short, far too short. Yesterday I was making my First Communion in second grade and in 10 days I turn 50. WTF!?
I have learned through the years to never declare something I am "determined" to do. I think it sets one up for failure. But I would like to secure a full time job (yes, still looking even though I have a pretty great temporary job that I will be going back to soon), I would like to travel, I would like to make a commitment to fun.
I don't know, does that seem attainable?