I used my adding machine at work today, because I was afraid I’d done the mental math wrong. No such luck. 2011 minus 1974 equals 37. WHAT?? I’m going to be 37 this year? It’s officially time for a mid life crisis, or so I’ve declared it. As I’ve watched time tick by, more and more quickly with each passing year, my mind has remained convinced I’m still at least a decade younger than reality proves. They do say it’s all about how old you feel, but I don’t entirely buy that these days… maybe only because I’m having a mid life crisis. Unfortunately, I don’t have the funds for a smoking new sports car, and thankfully, I’m far from unhappy with the loves of my life and have no desire to replace them, so I guess I’ll need to compensate elsewhere.

What’s a girl to do? Or, a middle aged lady, rather?

I was thinking back to New Years gone by earlier, and I remembered my worst ever. It was either 91, 92, or 93 (way to narrow it down), and I remember for whatever reason, I was devastated by something my boyfriend at the time did. Hahaa. So we had broken up, and my mom tried to get me to go to a party at an old family friend of ours, and Lauri was dating RJ at the time, and for some reason I think they wanted me to go to Pizza Hut with them. Sounds pretty high schoolish, so we can probably narrow it down to 91 or 92, but I decined both offers. I’m pretty sure I drank a 40 and a half of Old English, and I distinctly remember puking in the New Year with Dick Clark announcing in the background. Talking about the half bathroom off the family room, that at that point had ceased to be a family room of any merit. Happy New Year “insert vomiting sound here.” Pretty pathetic…

So now I’m 37. In a few months, anyhow. I suppose I’ve got some time to put a game plan in action. And I have a mild idea; just hoping I don’t lose anyone along the way.