It could be today's sentence but it's not because I didn't come up with it myself. It was posted by a friend on Facebook. (Yeah, it hurts a little admitting I spend time on Facebook.)
It's not that I feel like everyone has a better hang of living than I do, or even that most other people do, it's more a case of having realized that I actually suck at living in a lot of areas of my life.
I know how to make an adequate living. What that means is that I'm currently employed in a job that pays me quite well and that allows me to live comfortably, buy foods out of the health section of the supermarket, spoil the teen age daughter a little and allow myself to own several pairs of Doc Martens when I really only need one pair. If you want to be precise I have a four times better hang of it in that area because I own four pairs of Dr Martens. One of the them is a rare blueberry color so that may count for more. All of them were bought on eBay, which may count for less, except for that one pair that was given to me as a gift by O. (That actually makes them hard to wear not only because they're a size too big for me. That pair has psychological issues.)
I live in a relatively nice house in a relatively nice suburb but I rent. There's such a thing as renters shame in Sydney. It may be hard to believe it but I swear there is. You may pay masses of money to rent in Sydney, almost as much as paying for a mortgage, but if you don't own your house or apartment in Sydney there's probably something wrong with you. Same if you don't drive a car. There's something almost criminal, or at least highly suspicious, about you if you don't drive a car. If you choose to commute using a bicycle then you're most definitely breaking the law because all cyclist do if you believe what they write in the Sydney Morning Herald.
I work in a corporation but I don't have a career path. I thought it was just me for the longest time but the more I talk to people at my work the fewer people I find who actually have a career path. Most of them were employed being promised development and career opportunities but they have found themselves in positions lesser than the position they were first hired for and with no future prospects. It's the corporation not me, in other words. I'm still there because they pay me well but what that means is that I in this area have a very poor hang of living because I've just stopped dead, I've stagnated, I have no career path, I am not developing new skills and I'm now trying to figure out what it is I want to do when I finally grow up. Say what you will but it does impact poorly on my morale and it's killing the perfectionist in me (which may be a nice side effect).
I could go on but let's cut to the chase, let's not beat around the bush, let's be honest and let's get it all out there on the table in broad daylight: I'm single!
At my ripe old age I'm single. The failed relationships I've left in my wake can still be counted on one hand with two missing fingers (unless you resort to counting "dalliances") and that's not too bad. I've given every single one of my relationships the best go I possibly could but where I went wrong is so easy to see, and it hurts to admit that my mum is right (ouch!). I suck at choosing the right guy! In my defense I'm getting better at it (I hope, there's no real proof as yet) because I've steadfastly avoided getting involved with any lowlifes for the past year. No borderline personalities have crossed the threshold to my heart for over almost 15 months. Yay for me!
I should be proud of myself. I have, judging by my current situation, a better hang of it at living than I used to.
Here's the problem, and I know it's not hard to predict what I'm going to say next, I want love in my life. I don't want to be a crusty, middle aged woman spending my time in the nearest lawn bowling club because I don't know how to find quality love for myself. I want to be Madonna sans that horrible cone bra, the plastic surgery and the bleached hair. (What's left of her after that? What the hell am I saying?) I want to be cool and I want to have it all together. I want to breeze trough my menopause and look cool doing it. Most of all I want a gorgeous and together guy next to me while I do it. I want to sail through that shit like I knew what I was doing all along!
I feel compelled to say this; there's no lack of guys who try to pick you up when you're a single female. You don't need to be twenty something or even in your early thirties. If you're single guys will try to pick up you up. It's inevitable.
I assume some of these guys are decent guys and they may even have potential but the sheer fact that they try to pick you up indicates, to me at least, that they're more out to get some casual action than anything else. I avoid them because I know myself well enough to know I attach instantly, a codependency trait I'm burdened with, and that I will more than likely pick the wrong guy in a situation like that anyway. I will pick the guy with the least potential. I look at myself as someone who has her heart in the right place but who needs some real strict guidelines from her head in this area of her life. Or rules. Very strict rules and guidelines.
I've analyzed myself more than it's probably healthy to do since I had my nervous breakdown three and half years ago. I know why it happened, and why and how work triggered it. I also know why I've chosen to stubbornly try to have relationships with guys who may have wanted one but were incapable of having a healthy one. I get all that. It more than peeves me I didn't know this before and I know it peeves me because I'm a perfectionist which is also part of my problem.
I know I need to lay off myself and cut myself some slack. I'm by far not the worst case scenario or a complete failure but there comes a time my friend, when you have done the work and you desperately want to see it pay off. You want proof in the pudding. You want evidence. You want to gather new data and facts. You want to see all that hard work and soul searching pay off in grand ways. Sitting in that empty space in between waiting for it all to unfold is hell and it's unforgiving.
So right now, when I look around, I really do feel that other people just have a better hang of it than I do at living. They're just better at it than me and until I have some proof in the pudding I'll more than likely keep feeling like that.
Which is better than being a meth addict. I have more proof in the pudding and better future prospects than a meth addict.
I'm just saying.
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