I lied a lot today, and guys, it's wearing my ass out. Maybe it's my fast approaching birthday that has me so prickly, or maybe it's just as Robbie says: You see the problem with me, I've got a head full of fuck. I know I go on about this, but you're my outlet, so love me or leave me. Back to the lies. That lack of honesty that pervades aspects of my life is fucking killing me. Every day I say things that are contrary to what I'm actually feeling. The opposite of what is in my head. It's a part I play. I can fool you. Or am I fooling myself? I started this blog last year and I was talking about the same damn thing. Age is just a number, of course, but it's a marker. I'm not afraid of getting old. I welcome it. I hate the number because it marks another year when I haven't sacked up and made the right changes. Ummm....I guess that's all. Even when I'm all pissy and conflicted like I am today, I can still smile at casting myself as fucking Mulan. Reflection lyrics. Heh. It's the Gemini in me. Having a lucky cricket sidekick would be awesome, though. Oh and that birthday? June 10. Gifts are now being accepted.Mostly this random babble is about marking time and making changes and being true...standing in my truth, bitch, as freakgirl says. But I guess part of it is about aging and was triggered by a lady who just left my office. She said she was trying to figure out which of us is older. She is only 47 and I'm about to be 41 (yeah, you heard me), a blink of the eye, I'll admit, but fuck me, sister looks like she been rode hard and put up wet. My reflection may not show who I am inside, but it does show a damn sight better than her mullet-having, tracksuit-wearing, onion-smelling ass.
Do I sound kinda bitter? Fucking 41. Brotha Mike needs to sack up, right? If bitter, it's directed inward. Well, mostly. Bitch was trippin'.
Added: Guys, WHILE I was just responding to comments, my phone rang. It was a woman who works for me. She and her husband are going to Chicago in July. Wants me to go with. Maybe see a show. Do some shopping. And oh, she has a sister who lives there. A nurse. She's 39. Lives downtown. I said, "Let me think about it." The fuck? Are the fates hitting me with anvils now? You might know I'd love to make a Chicago trip this summer, but my pursuits would be more aligned with these.