Epilogue

So, I got kinda busy. And started to ignore this blog. Then felt badly that I'd slacked off after only having done it for a couple of months. Today I left a comment on a blog and didn't realize that by using my Google account to leave it, it would link to this blog. Am dumb. Now I feel obligated to update (even though no one is reading it, which is prefectly fine), and have thus fallen into the most boring trap of writing about blogging. Am lame. But maybe it's good for me to get back to this. I have too many thoughts in my head with nowhere to go, combine that with too much freetime at work and you'd think I'd be an incredibly prolific blogger. Well, I'll give it a go. This can be like an epilogue to the past year.

What happened in the year I've been gone?

I planned a wedding.

I got married.

I traveled to Egypt and Jordan.

I saw the pyramids.

My family suffered tremendous loss and difficult illness. People are doing better.

My sister is engaged.

I traveled to meet up with friends, together we celebrated a new baby.

I saw some funny movies.

I stayed in shape and continue to eat healthy.

I decided I'm ready to have a family.

I went to a financial planner and figured out how to save for retirement. Stopped feeling badly for not saving for retirement (or continue to try).

My 1988 Toyota Corolla that my parents gave me in high school finally bit the dust. I bought my first car. It is practical, but cute.

I need to blog because I'm convinced that my life is the most boring thing and that I'm wasting my youth. That is incredibly dramatic and silly, but it's how I feel. It's made it harder and harder for me to keep in touch with friends that live far away, because I feel I have so little to say. I now dread talking on the phone. The main thought in my head all the time is how miserable my job makes me but that I have no idea how to make a change. The weekends are a chance to be free from those thoughts, but then I put all sorts of pressure on myself to try to live to the fullest on the weekends, since I don't during the week. I never live up to the expectations I have for myself. I need to plan ahead more. There are many things I need to do and I keep beating myself up for not doing then. Flossing is one of these things. I need to be more grateful for my life and appreciate the simplicity of things. Simple should be good. For me, simple is a symptom of laziness. Why can't I appreciate letting a weekend slowly develop? Why do I feel badly for not trying to get more out of it? See, this is the problem. I bore myself. Here and in life. What the hell is wrong with me?

Tip of the Iceberg

I think my challenge with this blog will be finding a way to keep it current and in-the-now. It’s so much easier for me to be able to recount my past than to confront the everydayness of my life. I’ve always been a really bad storyteller because I just don’t find my life interesting enough to recount. So many people out there can describe the simplest experience from their day and make it funny and meaningful. Me? I got nothin’. I see my life as a series of big events and choices that are spread out over the course of my life. If I haven’t chosen a college, or a major, or started to play a new sport, or won an award, or started a new job, or moved to a new city--I feel like I have nothing new to say. My life is routine, how interesting can routine be? I wake up (which is always painful—I hate getting out of bed), go through my morning routine, drive to my carpool partner’s house, we drive to work, get coffee, I sit down at my computer and check my e-mail and read my bloglines, and then try to force myself to work. I struggle with that all day. Then my carpool partner and I leave, go to her house to work out, I drive home, make dinner, talk to The Man (I seriously need a good nickname), we watch TV, I fall asleep on the couch, I go through my nighttime routine in the bathroom, we retreat to bed to read, and I fall asleep. That’s it. That’s how almost every workday plays out. Sometimes it’s broken up by us going to a friend’s house for dinner and TV, by out of town guests, by the rare concert event (we recently went to see a taping of This American Life—FANTASTIC), but really, that’s how it goes. The thing is, I like routine, but I’m bored wtih myself. I’ve struggled since college with my lack of hobbies. I love watching TV and being at home. Sometimes when we’re out I’ll look into other people’s apartments and see them home and feel jealous. But then I’ll get mad at myself because so often I feel like I’m wasting my life. I’m young! I should be out there! Doing things! Taking piano, making art projects, finding my bliss! But I don’t. And as The Man and I get closer to getting married this summer (WOW is THAT a long story) and thereby we get closer to having kids (holy crap), the ticking gets louder…if I don’t find a new and more satisfying career now, I never will! If I don't engage in hobbies and classes I never will! If I don’t spend more time going out and seeing concerts I never will! Because once the kiddies arrive, we will never have the time and energy to do anything ever again. It’s terrible. Kids almost feel like the default hobby. They take so much time and energy there isn’t time for anything else. I know these are all pretty typical thoughts for my age and stage, and I hear that life isn’t necessarily over when you have kids (as long as you can find and afford a baby sitter), but the thought of not figuring my shit out before I’m consumed by parenthood dominates a lot of my thoughts. And I’m not sure what to do about it.