Rumblings of mortality
Dec. 9th, 2002 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdTalking with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heronirene this weekend, and got to thinking.
Everyone comments about how I do so much. I don't feel like I do anything. I have a sense of time slipping away from me.
I'm 35. My family doesn't live much past 70, and the ones that do are gaga by the end of it.
Senile Dementia runs strong in my family. I have this feeling that half my life is over.
So, there is a rush to do many things, to write everything, to make all the pretties I want, to spend time just playing with the kids. (Huge ticklefest with Dollface last night. I'd tickle her until she gasped, stop let her catch her breath and then she'd demand "Tickle me more!" I was laughing as hard as she was)
Less time for doing things I hate, cooking meals that are "good for us" that no one likes and everyone leaves on their plate, going places I don't want to be, and seeing people I don't like.
Does this sound gloomy?
I wonder if it's because every winter, my knees get a little stiffer and my my fingers have to be coddled a bit more from the cold, otherwise the joints won't bend. It makes me feel old when I'm only middle aged.
The problem is, the Boomers redefined everything about the life-cycle. I'm hearing "35 is the new 18" from my age-mates, most of whom are still not married, or are divorced without kids. But I don't want to be 18. I want to be middle-aged. I want to be dignified. I want to be mature.
Am i the only person still trying to live the American Dream: marriage, kids, cat, 2 cars?
Sometimes I feel like the world I was raised for is not the one I'm in, but I don't really want either.
Anyway, back to work, and I'll just go crochet my blues away when I get home.
White Chili in the crock pot: white beans, turkey, green chilies and cumin.
(White as opposed to red, with beef, kidney beans and tomatoes)
heronirene this weekend, and got to thinking.Everyone comments about how I do so much. I don't feel like I do anything. I have a sense of time slipping away from me.
I'm 35. My family doesn't live much past 70, and the ones that do are gaga by the end of it.
Senile Dementia runs strong in my family. I have this feeling that half my life is over.
So, there is a rush to do many things, to write everything, to make all the pretties I want, to spend time just playing with the kids. (Huge ticklefest with Dollface last night. I'd tickle her until she gasped, stop let her catch her breath and then she'd demand "Tickle me more!" I was laughing as hard as she was)
Less time for doing things I hate, cooking meals that are "good for us" that no one likes and everyone leaves on their plate, going places I don't want to be, and seeing people I don't like.
Does this sound gloomy?
I wonder if it's because every winter, my knees get a little stiffer and my my fingers have to be coddled a bit more from the cold, otherwise the joints won't bend. It makes me feel old when I'm only middle aged.
The problem is, the Boomers redefined everything about the life-cycle. I'm hearing "35 is the new 18" from my age-mates, most of whom are still not married, or are divorced without kids. But I don't want to be 18. I want to be middle-aged. I want to be dignified. I want to be mature.
Am i the only person still trying to live the American Dream: marriage, kids, cat, 2 cars?
Sometimes I feel like the world I was raised for is not the one I'm in, but I don't really want either.
Anyway, back to work, and I'll just go crochet my blues away when I get home.
White Chili in the crock pot: white beans, turkey, green chilies and cumin.
(White as opposed to red, with beef, kidney beans and tomatoes)
