Real Talk

 **I started this about a week ago. Since then I have calmed down and decided I cannot let myself continue to hold onto these feelings. The below is unfinished but a raw emotion at that moment last week.**

 

After last Thursday’s post I have decided to just be completely open with myself and my emotions. I’m generally a happy easy going gal but sometimes life gets you down…. 

First, in regards to last weeks post I’m pissed in all honesty. The negativity and mean place that one comment came from really hurt. We use to be so incredibly close and now we’re not, at all. That simple. We have no idea what the others life is even like. So to take time to make such a passive aggressive move not even toward fixing things. I’m not even 100% sure why we’re even fighting anymore but this was the reminder as to why we’re not friends. 

It all feels incredibly childish. Two twenty something gals acting this way. Are we both that pethitically stubborn or is this really the best outcome? Once so close we respect for eachother to no longer on speaking terms acting out with low blows? Yes, to answer your question, I do remember when we were best friends. I remember very well. As I’ve said before, it was the rarest friendship. The type you omhold onto a cherish forever. 

I’m not a domesticated.

I feel a bit silly even admitting this and for even putting it out there. I’m not a housewife. Or slightly domesticated. I literally have few responsibilities in our household. This isn’t meant to be a braggy post. It’s more of me word vomiting my realization of how little I actually contribute to our home.

Monday through Friday I go to my comfy desk from 9am to 5pm. I work in a relaxed office where I know exactly what is expected of me and what all my responsibilities are. When it comes to the home front it’s all L.

L feeds our dogs, cares for the chickens, makes dinner, usually stops by the grocery store for any last minute needs…. I could go on. The one main thing I make sure gets done every Sunday is changing the sheets on our bed. I do help out with laundry on the weekends but L typically takes care of it during the week.

I know we will continue to find our rhythm and a routine that works for us. This right now is just our reality and what works for us. I’m thankful to have someone as my life partner who doesn’t believe in gender roles.

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It hit me.

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So I realized yesterday that I’m officially 1.5 years from my 30th birthday. I honestly feel a bit foolish but it’s hit me hard that I only have a short time left being a twenty something gal.

When I was 21, even 22, I thought this time was forever away. I love my birthday and what new age means. I’ve always seen getting a year older as a positive step. When I turned 25 I was beyond excited for people to stop associating me with the “typical” early twenties mess. In all honestly I’m still a hot mess but can put a good front up when in public. And L does a great job baby sitting.

I want to embrace age and every passing year but something about this 1.5 years left of my twenties has me freaked the hell out. I suddenly feel overwhelmed and like time is running out to do certain things. Shouldn’t I be a mom before I’m thirty? Have we travelled enough? I don’t save enough! I guess I’m starting to feel like I’m not adult enough to be almost 3-0.

When I really sit and think about it I sound like a superficial brat. “OMG I’m almost 30” high pitch whine.

Isn’t age just a number?