Today, I wish I could curl back up in my bed and pull the covers up over my head.
I have nothing nice to say today, to anyone. Except the guy at Starbucks that provided me my caffeine kick this morning. I was pretty pleasant to him.
I’m having one of those days that everything feels wrong and is snowballing.
Fortieth Birthdays Suck
Two weeks from today, I will no longer be in my late 30’s.
My whole life, I have loved my birthday. I have started counting down from about March and reminding anyone who would listen. I wanted parties and presents and a million messages on Facebook. It was my day. My birthday. A time to celebrate me. May seem stupid to some, but I’ve always looked forward to it.
This year, for the first time in my whole life, I don’t care. I don’t want to be 40. I do not want anyone to celebrate. I don’t want to have a party. I don’t want anyone to make jokes about me being “over the hill” or “half dead” or anything of the sort. I don’t want presents or even acknowledgement. I just want it to go away. I want the day to come and go and I want to still be 39.
My job sucks. I have been working in the same position for almost 11 years. I have been doing the same job, in the same cubicle, for four different companies. This division keeps getting sold and I just go right along with it.
I love my actual work. I love the actual work that I do on a daily basis. I do not love the parent company I work for right now. They are bad business men. I do not know how we have managed to stay in business this long. Vendors aren’t important. Employees aren’t important. Customers aren’t important. No clue how we are up and running still.
To come to work, every day, making very little money and struggling to get my job done, because the big wigs in the proverbial corner offices (I don’t really know if they have corner offices or not) have no clue, is VERY frustrating.
I have been
sleeping with dating two guys, for a little over two months. One of them is 29 and the other is 41. Neither of them want a relationship with me. Neither of them go out of their way to make me happy. Neither of them have mentioned it being exclusive. (Remind me again why I’m dating either of them)
Pros for the 29 year old:
He makes me laugh. Belly laugh, until I want to pee my pants.
He makes me feel young. Of course he hasn’t even hit his 30’s and I’m almost out of mine.
He tells me I’m beautiful and calls me babe. This is important to me. I need to hear it.
He tells me he misses me. Again, I need to hear it.
He’s so handsome and hardworking.
Cons for the 29 year old:
He’s 29. And I’m not.
He’s in the middle of a divorce. Chances are, he doesn’t want anything long term, especially with an old woman.
He is really bad about texting and keeping in touch with me. I’m WAY too needy for this.
He tells me he is going to do things with me and then we never do them. I’m a planner. I’m not that good at flying by the seat of my pants.
He says he only dates one girl at a time, but I don’t know if this true. I would probably say the same thing, if asked right now.
The sex is good, but not mind-blowing. (See pros on the 41 year old)
Pros for the 41 year old:
THE SEX IS MIND-BLOWING. He knows his way around a woman’s body. (See con list)
He is so smart. Our conversations are good and interesting. I always learn new things.
He’s so handsome.
He texts me pretty regularly and is very open about where things stand between him and I. I never have to guess.
It’s easy being with him.
Cons for the 41 year old:
He is a self-proclaimed ex man whore. Knows his way around a woman’s body, for good reason.
Sometimes he makes me feel stupid because I’ve never seen movies like The Fifth Element and don’t know the actor he is talking about.
He has had some financial issues in this economy, as a lot of people have, so right now, he’s living with his family. Makes it hard to see each other.
He never says sweet things to me. Wouldn’t call me beautiful, if his life depended on it.
He has never actually taken me out on a date. We have hung out at my house once and the rest of the time I go to his house, after his family is asleep. I guess it’s fine, since he has no intentions of being in a relationship with me.
I’m pretty sure he’s
sleeping with dating other people.
My problem with them both is that I genuinely like them and I’m not ready to end either relationship, no matter what the relationship is.
But also, I do not like living in limbo. I do not like the guessing game. I do not want to be an option for anyone, and right now, I’m an option for both of them.
Doing dishes sucks
Yesterday, I left work after an hour, to get my house clean. I don’t mean pick it up and put stuff away, I was going to do the deep cleaning. The stuff no one likes to do. I was ready. It was going to allow me to get out of my own head and something good to show for it.
When I got home, I started doing dishes, before I even kicked my flip flops off. I was motivated!
About 8 minutes in to washing dishes, I was washing a knife. It slipped, or the sponge slipped, or my finger slipped. I’m not really sure of the scenario, but I do know that all of a sudden, my right thumb, was gushing and squirting blood, all over my sink. I called my mother in a panic, because I couldn’t get the bleeding to stop and I couldn’t’ tell how deep the cut was.
Disclaimer: my mom lives 30 minutes away and passes out at the sign of blood.
I finally got the bleeding to stop and saw that it wasn’t a deep cut, just a cut. I filleted the side of my thumb and cuticle. Filleted it. Like a fucking piece of salmon.
Needless to say, I sat my happy ass on the couch, for the remainder of the day. I watched some Gilmore Girls reruns, in between crying fits.
I have hit my breaking point.
I’m THIS CLOSE to telling the 29 year old and the 41 year old, to get bent.
I’m THIS CLOSE to cancelling my birthday all together and just staying in bed, until it is over.
I’m THIS CLOSE to looking for a new job, even though there isn’t much out there right now.
And, for the record, I’m done doing dishes. Forever. Paper plates and plastic forks for me.