And I’m not talking about a Vespa…
I’m going to be 30 at the end of this month. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. I don’t know that I necessarily want to celebrate, but sitting at home hiding my head under my pillow probably isn’t the best idea. Some days I think that it isn’t a big deal, it’s just another birthday. Other days, I get a little sad, but not too sad, that my life isn’t “better” than it is. That is my own fault, there’s no one else to blame for the way my life is. Plus, many would think my life isn’t all that bad. I suppose it really isn’t.
I did think that by this point in my life I would have more to my name, or be more stable. That I wouldn’t be so worried about paying bills, or that I wouldn’t have credit card debt. That kills me. I NEVER had credit card debt until the beginning of the end of my first marriage. Now it just won’t go away. I keep trying. It seems there is always something that needs fixed or replaced. I can’t just go shopping for clothes or shoes or anything else fun whenever I want – not the way I used to.
That is all part of being a grown-up though, and you know what? That part of being a grown-up sucks. Being a rich grown-up probably isn’t all that bad. But being a middle class grown-up that is divorced and remarried and really doesn’t like her job and can’t really afford to go back to school and is turning 30 and some people think she’s kind of a waste anyway because she doesn’t have kids? That kind of grown-up needs a break once in a while.
The Caribbean or Vegas would do just fine.
Where’s that damn credit card???