Life Management and Sex

I am weary of existential life graduate school. It has become apparent that if I want something in my life, it’s up to me to get it. On one level this feels liberating; on another, completely frustrating. I have, it turns out, confidence in neither discipline nor self-control. Graduation is looming.

Blah, blah, blah, what’s really bugging me is my weight. I’m still on the side of hawt, but I’m pushing the envelope. Life, and me not being where I want to in it, is what is contributing to my wild addiction to carbs. I am scared that I don’t have what it takes to actually have the life I want and so I am building a layer of blubber around myself to hide behind.

Having kids as young as mine are when I am as old as I am in out of sequence; my insides are pushing full tilt boogie toward adventure and intrigue and I find myself strapped with the realities of small people in need of stability. It is making me cranky. Caught between guilt that I’m not working as hard as I could be when I have them and guilt that I really like work and tend toward task over people as a default… Working to pay bills, but not sure what I’m working toward. That feels like I’m time spinning my wheels which feels like I’m wasting time and I’m in my 40’s and I’ll never have sex again as I careen toward death.

Women in their 40’s should absolutely have more sex.

Why NOT eat anything I can get my hands on? Never having sex again and rushing to death? That would drive anyone toward cookie dough.

The thought of being on hold just making ends meet until they graduate makes me feel paralyzed and panicked. All of the work it will take to get what I want makes me spin. I don’t want to give up what I know: the shut down. Enough fucking change already. The hint is that there’s a process behind this, and I’ve been pretty damn jiggy with this process bullshit, but enough already. Yes, there are a thousand things moving in the right direction (well, at least three); my stretch capacity though is stretched to the max and I feel a huge change coming. It’s either going to snap and break my eye or I’m about to have a big breakthrough. To connect, I have to let people in. People whom I can hurt and who can hurt me. When I am shut down, I am mostly impervious to hurt. But sex…

I think it might be breakthrough, but I’m already mad at myself that there will be an extra 20 pounds that need to come off about the time I should be feeling doubly terrific about some positive breakthrough about to come.

Want. My. Cape. Back.


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