What The…?

I am sitting here contemplating my future as a writer, a mother, a daughter, a lover.  All at the age of 32.  It’s like I went from a complete know-it-all to a complete moron in less than a decade! I thought by now I would not only have my life panned out but I’d be reaping the rewards of a so-called fulfilling life.

I mean for a second there the map was vividly clear.  And now I look back, having been so much wiser but nonetheless the same.  Add about 10 pounds or so but pretty much the same.

Not so long ago, I was inspired, brave, bold and unafraid to take a chance in life.  And now I have become a drone.  A slave to money (or lack thereof), love (again lack thereof) and other mundane middle-aged bullshit. Not knowing where to go, what to do or how to do it?

Not saying that I have lost my way but the vigor is gone. Endless stories are unfinished and unfocused. Work is mundane and depsite overwhlming…very dull/ordinary to say the least.

Am I alone in wondering what the fuck happened?

Back to the fucking drawing board!

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