The clock is ticking...

Okay, so in less than forty-eight hours, I will be thirty six years old. Ugh. I do not know why certain birthdays are harder on me than others. Twenty eight really sucked for some reason. And thirty was a mother fucker. Thirty, it just sounded so old at the time. Now I am looking squarely in the face of thirty six. Thirty six for God's sake. Maybe it is so hard for me to accept thirty six because I know that more than half of my life is over by this point, and I am still as unhappy as I have ever been. Thirty six to me at this point screams I am a failure. I have failed in life, I have failed in love, and I am running out of time to fix any of it. I just can not seem to hold on to faith that it will all get better when I know that I have less than half a life left to live. If I were able to marry the man of my dreams right now, right this minute, I would never see my fiftieth anniversary. At this point in my life, I am too old (not to mention too tube tied) to have any more children, which means I will never be able to have a child with my soul mate. If I went back to school this year, I would be forty before I got my degree. Once I got my degree, I would have to start a new career with it. That would mean by the time I hit my twenty years in my chosen field, I would be at least sixty. Then I could retire content that I had succeeded in my chosen profession. At that point, I would have maybe ten or twelve years to enjoy my life before dying. (That is if nothing goes wrong, or the two packs a day I smoke don't kill me much earlier than that.) Does any of this sound like something to look forward to? As for my love life, I figure it will be at least a couple of years before I find the one that will be my life partner. This means that by the time I have the love I have always sought, I will be around forty right? I tend to choose men who are somewhat older than myself. That means that he will be roughly forty seven or eight by then. The average American male lives to the ripe old age of seventy five point two years. Let us assume the man I get to have for the remainder of my life is seven years older than me. That means that at best I can expect twenty eight point two years with the love of my life. That just doesn't seem like long enough to me. Hell, I have wasted fifteen years on a man who it turns out was never really in love with me in the first place. To get less than twice that with the man of my dreams just doesn't seem fair to me somehow. I hate getting old. Maybe I just will refuse to get any older. Maybe I will just stay thirty five forever. Hell, Oprah says that if you just wish for something hard enough, that it will happen. So I wish that the aging process will just stop for me. Time will stand still for me. I will watch everyone around me get old, and die, and I will stay middle aged forever. So, I say to hell with thirty six. I refuse to get that old. I will just turn thirty five again this year. That's my story, and I am sticking to it. So Happy early thirty fifth to me. That's all, Bye.