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Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Not Ready to Make Nice

I’m not ready to make nice, I’m not ready to back down, I’m still mad as hell and I don’t have time to go round and round and round. It’s too late to make it right, I probably wouldn't if I could, ‘Cause I’m mad as hell, can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should. - Dixie Chicks

I've struggled to blog lately. Shocking. I feel like I'm self-censoring for a number of reasons. On top of that, at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do is type more, form more coherent thoughts, and put things in writing.

Tomorrow is my 36th birthday. I have mixed feelings about this. 30? Could not WAIT. 35... wasn't too bad. 36? Not digging it. I should be married, with a child, or a child on the way. Logically, anyway. We walked away from that. Ironically, the ex is engaged now. The guy I dated after that? Having a baby. Life certainly works in odd ways. So, let's recap. No husband, no baby. The husband? I can deal without having. The baby (child...)... the desire hasn't gone away. I know, a good woman would find a man, settle down, get married, then decide to have a baby. I don't really care about doing things the way I should. I have a great job and a career and that's half the battle.

I've been round and round with the workout, weight loss thing. I feel like I suck at life. I know...I know. Stubborn as my best friend says (you can even read it here!), "Just Do It!" as I was recently told by another acquaintance. Slowly but surely, right? I've exercised every day this week, in some form. I don't want to over-do it again with my back, but I'm dying for a hard leg day - the one that leaves you with jello legs and sore for days. Leg day makes me feel invincible, and powerful. Silly, but it does. 

So how does it all tie together? I won't back down (I don't like to lose). I don't want to do what people think I should... so I'm going to do it... all of it. Damn it. I'm going to kick 36 in the ass and laugh as 37 rolls around in 365 days, when I'm better, stronger, and happier. And the child? I'm taking a step that simultaneously SCARES me and brings me comfort. I'm going to an adoption event on Sunday. It's an event for at risk/troubled children that end up in foster care, but a lot are eligible for adoption. I don't know what's going to come of it, but adoption has always seemed...natural... to me.

So... here's to 36. No turning back...no excuses. No making nice. Kicking ass, taking names.

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