In exactly three weeks time I will be 34. Yes thirty four years of age. I spent my thirty third birthday on my own shopping in Glasgow. Then I came home, had a visit from my sister and the nephews and went to spin class. It was a Saturday last year. It's a Sunday this year. The day of the week when no-one wants to do anything. I'll most likely spend this birthday on my own again then at home with mum and dad because I don't seem to matter to people that much. Sure I get cards, my parents give me money which is always appreciated but I never really celebrate my birthday. My little cousins birthday is on 16th March and this year we've decided to go out for a nice meal in the weekend between our two birthdays. That's at least something to look forward to. But I never really have a celebration. I never had an 18th nor a 21st party. I had a small gathering in the house for my 30th and a small gathering in our office too, organised by Linda. Both were great. But you know, every once in a while I'd like folk to sit up and take notice. Is it too much to ask?
I sit here in my bedroom of the house where I've lived all of my life. My mum is down the stairs sleeping on the couch and my dad is reading the Sunday papers sitting on the floor. This is the usual Sunday afternoon scene. Yes, I still live at home with my parents at the age of 33. It's really none of your business why this has come to be the case. Some people know, most people don't. It just the way it is.
I wonder if this is how the rest of my life is going to pan out? Am i destined to live in the same house, in fact the same bedroom, that i have lived since i was a child. Whatever will become of me? These are the kinds of questions I ask myself regularly, ever more regularly the older i get. I scare myself.
I was washing my hands in the toilet at work today and was thinking about people and what the might be doing for Valentine's day and stuff. Then I thought that maybe I'll never meet someone. It hit me like a two pound hammer blow, right between the eyes, maybe this is it for me. Do you think it is? If so I'm scared. People aren't getting any younger. What will happen when they're gone. There i'll be, alone, sitting here, still writing this blog. Oh what joy that will be. What complete and utter joy. I can't wait.
I can. I'm not settling for that you see. I'm not. I'm worth ten thousand of that No, ten billion! (this is me trying to be positive). It's not working is it?
I've had enough. And to cap it all off, the fucking stupid car has broke again!!! Front coil spring of suspension, snapped, pinged, made a few strange crunchy noises. Fucking shite Ford. I won;t buy another one.
This post is rubbish.