Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Job Hunting. Anxiety Overload.

Here I am. 
Thirty years old. 

As a female I've been told I was supposed to be angry or afraid of turning thirty. I am neither. I'm happy to be older. Getting older means I lived longer. I want to live for as long as I can.

I've been meaning to blog again for a few weeks now. My life has been tossed into the air. I have mixed feelings about it all. Our water got turned off again a few weeks back and it was decided that I have to go back to work. The smallest BabyG is almost 2. The biggest BabyG is so not a baby anymore, she's nearly school age. I guess it's time. Hubby has solely supported us for as long as he can. It's time for me to bite the bullet and get a "real" job.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Turning 30.

I often laugh out loud when I think about what being an adult would entail when I was a teenager.

I pictured soft jazz playing. Either being married or single (I was never too attached to either way of life so I could be satisfied with either) and both my SO and I would be successful people. I would be a history teacher and I would get a degree in anthropology. My SO and I would take turns cooking and cleaning. I would not have children because I was going to travel every chance I got. All of my money would be thrown into travel and fancy drinks with fancy meals. I would see the world because being worldly helps when you're a historian and successful anthropologist. I read all of these books about these people being approached to drop everything and go on these big important trips because they knew things. I wanted to be that person that knew things. I wanted to be published by 40 and settling into my dusty library-looking office by 50 as a world renowned historian/specialist on... SOMETHING