Rantings of a Grumpy Old Woman

Age is nothing but a number... or so they say. In my case, well, in everyone's case, these numbers seem to be climbing at a rapid rate. Tomorrow marks another trip around the Earth for me, and I turn 39 years old. Thirty. Nine. I honestly never thought about aging much before. I never thought about what it would be like to be older and actually look or feel older. In my head, I'm still in my late teens/early twenties. When I look in the mirror, I still don't see a 39 year old woman... until I look closer. Upon closer inspection, I see the fine lines in my face. I can see the bunch of lines around my mouth. I see the collection of lines around my eyes. I see the wisps of gray hair that peek out while I'm in between root touch-ups with my hair dye. Not only can I see the tell-tale signs of aging, but I feel them as well. I feel as though my energy has dropped significantly... even worse than normal. I hear my joints crack and pop when I move after long periods, soundi...

I don't feel good. Ever. I feel like there is always something wrong. Some nagging feeling of malaise or random illness coursing through my body. Granted, I have had a lot of health issues within the last few years. A lot of procedures done. Just.. really random things between side effects of my WLS, to mouth problems, to hip surgery. I feel like I am too young to be falling apart like this. My birthday is next week, and I'm really getting up there in age. Like... really getting up there, and I feel every bit of it. However I know most of the reason that I feel like crap. I. Don't. Take. Care. Of. Myself. You see, this surgery that I had... the one that stripped away 110 lbs from my body, has been awesome. I have a fresh start, and the ability to take charge of my health and have full control over what I put in my body and what I do with it. However, I continue to defile it. I consistently pour soda down my throat. I snack on chips, cookies, whatever I can get my hand...

One post in the last 12 months. Ironically enough, it was about new years and resolutions that I had created and had hoped to keep. Want to take an educated guess at how many I kept? Let me save you the trouble. Approximately zero. I don't have a piano and had zero time to take lessons. I haven't focused my energy on school, I've just been going through the motions. I don't know what else I promised myself that I would do, but I'm sure I failed miserably. What I can tell you, is a little about where I am now however. I'm in school still. My second master's hasn't been as stressful as my first, but I just haven't focused as much as I want on it. My GPA is impressive given this fact, at a 3.75. I have about 8 months left and then I start my practicum. Once that's finished, I'll be a licensed counselor in the state of Arizona. Again though... going through the motions and not making a point to be more involved and receptive. Le...

     Here I sit, loving my new look, happy with myself, and completely full of shit. I'm throwing some soul baring shit out here y'all. Laying some truth on the line. Those of you closest to me... I'm not fooling anyone. You've known for a while.... I wear my heart on my sleeve. Those that I see sporadically or haven't yet met in person and spent time with, this may or may not be new information. I'm picturing Phoebe from Friends right now... "THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION!!!!"      10 months ago, I made the decision to have a life-saving surgery for the ridiculous amounts of weight I had gained. True, we had a pretty crippling miscarriage that I didn't outwardly show grief over... I just ate my feelings. Quite a bit of them. Then I went and got my tubes ties, something... I completely and totally regret. It was also an automatic response... my brain trying to protect me or some crap... not wanting to go through a loss again, etc. Regardless, ho...

     Today marks my 6th official day as an employee of the state. My job title is case worker for the Department of Child Safety... or commonly known, social worker for CPS (child protective services). Regardless of the agency name or what people know it as, my job is to help children and families. Period.      Many people have their preconceived notions regarding what the organization does and its responsibilities. Basically, people think that I am the devil. They believe that I am out to remove their children from them for no reason, for things that are trivial and ridiculous. The fact of the matter is, it's not true. So far, I've come across a wide range of situations consisting of teenage runaways, physical abuse, neglect, addiction, sexual abuse, etc. I haven't had to delve too deep into it, but there are some disturbing things that I've read and seen so far.      Why would anyone want this job then, you ask? To make a difference... ...

     Each year when the clock strikes midnight on December 31, people kiss the ones they love, they sing Auld Lang Syne, and they participate in general debauchery. The liquor flows, the nicotine burns, the eating commences. Basically, every piss poor habit that a person feels that they may have, gets over indulged on this particular day and more than likely the last 30 or so days leading up to it.      New year, new me, right? I'm going to wake up somewhere between 8am and 6pm on January 1st, and I'm going to resolve to change things that I feel are bad. I'm going to drag my ass to the now overcrowded gym daily for about 2 or 3 weeks. Then I'll start finding excuses...I'll eat a few cheeseburgers. Yes, I've done this practically every year since I was old enough to understand I actually had faults (so, about 3 years ago, maybe). Each time, it was something about my health. I was going to quit smoking. I was going to go on a diet. I was going to work out ...

I'm sure my three year old came to that realization tonight and probably thought this sentence in her head. Tonight, we laid here, she cuddled me, and we had a snack and we watched tv. I pointed out things to her, sang songs with her, and we even did a little dance. The past few days, I have been focused entirely on her and my family. See, this weekend, I saw the video that has gone viral and everyone shared. A man with a 5 minute rhyming rant about people and cell phones. Ironically, I watched all five minutes of that video. On my smart phone. Ironic as it may have been, I believe that a lot of that hit home for me. My daughter is three already. Three. She's grown, in the blink of an eye, from a tiny newborn, completely dependent on me, to an independent toddler who fights to do everything herself. Before I realize it, she's going to be off to college and I will have lost my chance to know her, to help her, to teach her. From the time she was born, she has seen me on m...