Updated: Dec 31, 2021
This is 40.
Perception is a funny thing. Fickle, subjective, deceiving. One of my oldest and dearest friends and I were talking one day. She confessed that she wasn’t “killing it lately.” I chuckled and said “I don’t know anyone who is.” She said “You are.”
I am? I’m 40. I’m divorced. Living in sin. Childless. Disturbingly obsessed with animals. And yoga. I’m a workaholic and control freak. I am a domestic failure and chronic over scheduler. I am an obsessive worrier, people pleaser and nice to a fault because I’m a bleeding empath. Even when people are absolute shit to me, I have like this out of body experience where I am floating outside the situation and can see why they are a fuck head. I say nothing most times. I mean I have gotten better with my boundaries but she’d fucking cut a bitch, and I love that about her. She thinks I’m killing it?