For most of my life I have been waiting for things to get easier. When I was a kid, I was sure that by the time I was an old fart in my thirties I’d be a pro at this. I was certain that I would be super smart and know “everything”. I believed that I would be complete.
Well, I was wrong.
Life hasn’t gotten easier. In fact, it seems like it’s gotten harder. Much, much harder.
My cat drives me nuts, my neighbors yell all day long, my hair is too thick on one side and too thin on the other. I don’t know how to deal with difficult people. I have almost no tolerance to stress. I don’t know how to let go of pains from my past. And my expectations of myself are unreachable.
Perhaps I’ve lost the optimism I once had; perhaps my youthful naivete is all used up. Perhaps my expectations are unrealistic or I am too moody to see clearly due to lack of sleep and endless laundry. Perhaps life is just hard and I have to accept that I will never be that old fart who knows everything.
As much as I love my life most days and appreciate its simple gifts, there are days like today where I wish I could close my eyes and be lifted away into some other dimension–a place where I don’t have to deal with changing sheets or vacuuming or difficult relationships. A place where old hurts are forgotten. A place where someone takes care of ME all day. A place where I can sleep.
I am not a fan of complaining and negative thinking–it can really put a kink in life and waste it away. I believe in taking charge of how we perceive our lives and making the best with what we have. I believe in finding a way to do my hair that works for both the thick and thin side. But sometimes I think venting is good for the soul. And this was my vent.
Thanks for listening.