No, I'm not adopting a heroin habit.
I went and had lunch with two good friends of mine, Tweener and Lou. We got on the subject that 2007 was rife with disappointment for us at General Blather (I have no idea where they got that impression), and how 2008 was going to be a better year. My reply was a shrug of my shoulders.
That got the cheerleading section going. Tweener said something that not only sounded cool, but made sense. Stop existing, and start living.
Lately, I've hit a wall. I'm going to be turning 33 in a few months, and while I have made big steps in my life, I'm nowhere near where I want to be. I find that I'm comparing myself to the younger, cuter nurses on the floor. Not too long ago, a coworker flapped his yap and inadvertently said that guys aren't interested in girls like me.
Surprisingly, I still speak to him. He should consider himself fortunate that I don't have his testicles hanging from my keychain.
Lately, I've been all about the job, all about the house, all about nurturing "potential" relationships, all about everyone else, and leaving nothing for myself. I used to be hell on wheels. Now, I'm more like flat tires on a Ford Pinto.
Instead of formulating a resolution, I've just decided that I've had it with just existing. This is my year. I'm bringing sexy back, bitches.
Consider yourselves warned.