It's like an incredible feeling of deja vu all over again..

Sigh.

It's time again. Time for me to muse about, ponder, and lament this particular version of the passing o the time. I could say the same old jazz that I always bang on about, the same time of year every year, how it's just so..

I mean, I'm not so put out by the fact that I'm as old as I am, in the way that I'm no longer young, spry, fresh, blooming, cute.. all those things that a lady bemoans the loss of.. and when I say I'm not put out I mean it's all too easy to believe, I don't get that slight shock when I stop and think, this is true. I'm not saying I like it, I'm not even saying I don't actively dislike it.. I'm not even saying it doesn't distress me quite a lot, and often to feel my weary bones and see my haggard face.. and see the (recently increased yet again) number after the "age" section.. because yes, I fucking hate that shit. I'm just not at all in denial there.



What really astounds me is.. well, the way I am. This unestablished, disorganized, inexperienced, foolish, irresponsible and downright immature person. I don't have anything and I've done nothing. Well I've done stuff, but it's all over the place, and doesn't really count. Hard to explain. And I know a lot of people of mature ages are youthful and fun, but there's really something missing here, almost everyone I know, though they seem like a bit of a mess (that's quite a few people) have something about them, that one little grown up thing about them, that lets you believe they're in their 30s, or 40s. When I look at myself it's just.. I can't believe it. I couldn't believe it when I was 30.. and then at about 35 which seemed like such a fucking grown up age that it was just impossible I could be it, then 36.. 37.. and on :/

Like I said, or at least vaguely alluded, I say this every year so there's probably not much left to be said. So I'll see you next year. Or sooner if I have something to say :).