Monday, September 11, 2006

Grrr.... Time to vent.

1. You know what I despise? Going over with someone in detail why a proposal you're making is a really great idea, telling them all the reasons why it would be beneficial for them to do what you're proposing, and even laying out--kindly, mind you--why not accepting your proposal would be a bad idea for them; THEN having them do just the opposite, only for them to find out that you were right to begin with, and now they're up a shit creek with no paddle (which is a really gross concept, by the way. A "shit creek"...a small running river of poo, that you've for some reason have decided to take a leisurely row in...and now you've lost your paddle, you moron.) So now you're faced with the option of calling out the immature but highly satisfying "I told you so" or waiting patiently for them to beg for forgiveness, which you pretend not to give at first (a tad immature, yes, but better than "I told you so") but eventually graciously bestow, because hey, you want to be the better person (and reap all the benefits that you were telling said groveller of before.)

2. My dog rolled in a dead squirrel today.

3. Good intentions do not a good idea make. Good intentions mixed with habitual impatience just breeds disaster.

4. I've started my new job, which I love. I have good friends, whom I love. I have shelter, food, water, and a free workout facility, which I love. But all I can think of is turning twenty-seven--TWENTY-SEVEN--in nine days and how my entire life will be over. And I'm not being dramatic. I really think that'll be the drop off point for me. Three years until thirty...an age that stretches out like a black abyss, that marks the slowing down of my metabolism and the speeding up of my wrinkles...an age that ensures that I literally will have to work off that cookie, which I just joke about doing now. That says I have five good years to have kids, if I so desire, before they start marking "Advanced Maternal Age" on my hospital chart. I don't even WANT kids, but I still feel like time is running out. I'm afraid that at thirty, I'll make the slow decline into mom-jeans, Keds and stretch marks, and there will be no return.

Okay, perhaps I'm being a little dramatic, but I still feel a little panicky.

Ooo, I know what will help...presents!

And that's the end of my rant...for today.

5 comments:

Tammy said...

Ok,, I started my new job and I think I will like it too. I am holding out til I know for sure, after all it is a job,
And as for turning 27, you will be fine.. You can still have Kids til your 40 (if you want).. and you still look good (dont worry about wrinkles or the wider hips there are doctors who can help you fix that, look at Cher)
You also can lie about your age and still be stuck at 27 til your Actually about 36 and still be believed (then move your age to 29).
It's turning 47 (which I did this year) that is bad. Two kids and wrinkles and wider hips later, I've realized that I am not a young "swingin chick" any longer and I have to make compensations for my knees, back, and can't wear heels or I will fall down and break a bone or Bruise myself.
I can't lie about my age and make it believable (although I "think" I can get away with 39)
At least you can still turn the heads of man and will be able to for a very long long time.

KL said...

I'm with Heather. Highly offended.
You must think I'M some senile old lady, talking about me behind my back -- talking about my sensible loafers (they're comfortable, what can I say?) my old lady lipstick, and my MOM car. Sniffle sniffle. I'm absolutely HURT. :)

KL said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Sony said...

27 isn't the drop off, Sarah. I don't think. But then what do I know. I just spent the last hour comparing my existence to that of a moth.

This is why blogging at 3am is dangerous and should be banned.

Anonymous said...

shit creek would have to contain urine also, right? man, that would suck. shit creek, got to avoid that shit.