Late night thoughts (as in, 10pm)

So last night I finished reading My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me, and all I could ask myself was “how the hell is this my life?” This was just after I read a Facebook post from someone I graduated with, who after still not having a job, posted these as her post-grad career options: vigilante/superhero, prostitute, wife, or live at home. I, on the other hand, spent 4 hours in front of the computer preparing for and taking my Kaplan Advanced GMAT course. The computer wasn’t even my own, it belongs to my super awesome boyfriend who didn’t even mind that I took over his entire desk for the evening and made him bring me chips and dinner and stuff.

So how do I find myself here? Lying in bed, completely satisfied and happy and content. I don’t know, a part of me doesn’t think it’s fair or something… like, this girl in the book is 33 and single and has had some cool jobs but also spent a lot of her time cleaning up cat piss. That should be me. She isn’t sure if she will get married or if she can even have kids anymore. She had a boyfriend for 5 years (the one that eventually wrote a book about her) and she thought that she was going to marry him. Does thinking that now about Joe make me a fool? Especially when I think it even though I just read a book about it not happening to yet another person and me thinking “oh yeah… but that won’t be me…” BUT IT WILL. Because I predicted pain and I’m always right. I guess my question is more why she had to go through a lot of crap and well, I guess I have too, but, urgle, I dunno. Sometimes I just want a dog.

Advertisements

Have something to say?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s