I am feeling sorry for myself. I am wallowing. This year is my Golden Birthday. So many people have no idea what that means that I am wondering if I made it up, but it means I will be 28 on the 28th, so it would seem all the stars are aligning and shining just for me! But I feel like everything is the worst. Nothing in my life is even bad, but everything feels like it’s the worst.

obviously i’m going for the dog that looks like an ewok.

I just don’t think I ever thought I’d be this old. I never planned anything past “graduate college, be awesome for a while, travel, work a bit, embark on fabulous writing career, get married and make babies.” And I honestly guestimated that all that would be in full swing by the time I was 26 or so. And then I’d be a mom, then a grandma…and just wear sweatpants and have short hair. Maybe get a lap dog. Learn how to play bridge. But I have nothing figured out. I still make the same mistakes I’ve always made, albeit it on a generally smaller scale. I don’t feel any wiser or smarter or cooler. But now I find grey hairs and I must stretch after exercise. And bad things start to happen when you grow up. People move away. People die. People change. And we get tired. I’m tired of being brave and smiling through wondering why I’m still single. I’ve been dating since I was 15. I’m exhausted! Where is he? (Classic SATC) I spent all day yesterday with adorable young couples, leaning into each other, stealing kisses and knowing glances, guys wrapping arms around their girls because we were freezing, and I just stood and stamped my feet to keep warm. Everyone I know is getting older and married and babied. I just keep buying myself flowers. Someone stopped me in the bathroom and was being so sweet, gave me this huge hug and told me one day an awesome guy was going to find me, she knew he was out there, and he’d be so lucky and she hoped it was soon, etc. etc. I hugged her back and laughed, and then was struck with this painful thought – do people think I’m still single because something is wrong with me? Do they wonder about any secret weird habit I have that is a total turnoff? Or if I have terribly incurable bad breath? Or if I scare men away with my intense mellowness? Are they worried about me?! Egad, that would be embarrassing. For those of you wondering – I WONDER THE SAME THINGS. Is there something wrong with me? I think I’m pretty cool. I just want to snuggle and be lovely to someone. And I wish I knew if I really wanted to be a teacher forever. This is my third year and I’ve got my curriculum figured out. The kids can be pretty cute. Learning more about Latin is really interesting. But just when I’m full of sunshine,  hopes and dreams of changing children’s lives, and looking forward to easing into the rest of the year, I get ambushed by a parent during my morning prep period, accusing me and questioning me. After 40 minutes of me apologizing for something I don’t understand, she felt better, but I felt emotionally vomited on for no discernible reason.  And I had no time to get ready for my classes. All the rewards of teaching felt useless after that. And my school program feels like a giant waste of time. Getting good grades is still motivating, but if I can’t figure out if I really want to be a teacher, then how can I find value in this degree? What if I get to the end and all the hard work and sacrifice and money and time wasn’t worth it?

Neon sign
exACTLY

I just want a LARGE NEON SIGN pointing me towards my future, flashing and brilliant so I can’t miss the right way to go. I want an airplane flying across the sky with a sign on it that says “You’re doing great, Rachel! Keep it up! You’re making good choices!” I want a tall, dark, handsome guy who smells good to hold me and promise that the late twenties are actually the best twenties, and I’m gonna love it. I just want someone to say to me, oh oh oh oh, I’ll always be there when you wake, yeah. K. I’m done feeling sorry for myself. Mostly because I’m sleepy. Everything will look better on a not-Monday morning, right? Right. Blind Melon.