This past weekend I had an eye opening experience. I’m not 33 going on 34 like I was thinking. I’m 3.5 months away from 35! I know a age is only a number and you are only as old as you feel. Well this year I’m starting to feel like ninety. My knee hurts half the time and my foot hurts the other half. Okay, I’m getting off track now, time to get back to the point.
I’m closer to 35 than I am to 34 and I have nothing to show for it. I have no love of my life, no family of my own, and my job is only okay. The biggest excitement in my week is getting to watch all the hunky men on my crime and medical shows. I keep talking about making changes but it hit me this past weekend it’s time to end all the talking and start doing. I can talk till I’m blue in the face but if I don’t start doing I’ll be blue and need medical help and the ones in real life are nothing like the ones on tv. Trust me I work in a hospital and we have no McDreamy or McSteamy.
I’m almost 35 years old it is time for my passion to be at the forefront of my life. It doesn’t look like the white horse is showing up anytime soon and if it does with my luck it will empty. The prince will have fallen off the horse. And then I’ll have to go rescue him instead of him rescuing me.
My passion is my writing and it’s time to make my writing known. And maybe that’s by writing a book. After all part of me wants to. Hopefully next year at this time when 36 is staring me in the face I’ll have more to show for myself.