a tisket a tasket

shove that fucking basket right up your...

I'm in a funk.

Which is much different that feeling funky, let me tell you.

I do this a few times a year, feel blecky and hibernate. I'm firmly convinced that if more people wallowed a bit more frequently, they might not drive me apeshit.

I'm watching a person, whom I've always viewed as being just a hair above a functioning village idiot, achieve success in a field that has frustrated me for years.

One, I might add, for honesty's sake, I desperately desire to, if not succeed in, to at least be viewed as competent and mildly entertaining.

Goes to show how much I know, LOL.

I do not begrudge others success, at least, I don't think I do.

As long as it's not something I want that I can't have.

Not really all that gracious of an outlook, eh?

I made the mistake of, while not complaining (seriously, I take a break every now and again), discussing, if you will, my life with some friends of my mothers. They asked me about the boyos, which, in turn, lead to Lucien starting pre-K this year, I'll have more free time, and I mentioned that I was planning on going back to college.

They looked *shocked*

I guess when you get knocked up at 19, people's expectations of your life tend to fall off the chart a bit. I don't need a degree. I WANT a degree. Ask me what I'll do with it, the answer is a bit more hazy.

Everything I've accomplished so far, has been a combination of dumb luck, and biology. I've made three kick ass children. Biology. Doug has a great job, we have a great marriage. Hard work on his end, and dumb luck.

It was pointed out to me that I should be thankful for my children, rather indignantly, I might add. Well of course I'm thankful for them! What a stupid ass statement to make. However, not to be a wet blanket, but eventually, they will leave home. Hopefully before they are 30. I'll only be 43 when my youngest turns 18. There's alotta living' after 43 (or, so I'm hoping).

My children's needs determine what I do, and when I do it.

NOW.

Not always.

A gal has to plan.

For some reason, I guess I always assumed that when I was ready, the mantle would simply fall about my shoulders, and I would take my rightful place in the world.

Turns out that mantle is a poopy diaper.

I'm not handling it all that well.

The stupidest part is that I know that it means nothing. I know that her success is a good thing. It may mean that I'll get that $2000 she owes me back.

I'm just plain old jealous.

Green is my color, being a redhead and all.

Having to admit that you are jealous, sucks ass, just for the record. It's such an ugly emotion. I'm not jealous of girls that are prettier than me, or smarter, or have more money....

maybe it's that I just don't care about that stuff. Maybe that is what jealousy is all about. I suppose it doesn't really count when people have something you don't want. Not that I wouldn't mind having more money, or more brain cells.

So, anyway, in summation, there is no summation. There is nothing to be done for it, but to accept it, congratulate her, and keep on pluggin' away.

And maybe wallow. Just for a day or two.