I’m only 38. But I think I might be there… somewhere’s around mid-life, and in an identity crisis, AGAIN.
I don’t want a convertible. Or a boob job, or an ass lift. I don’t want a 20 year old pool boy. Maybe, I would. If he was from Brazil. But not really.
Lately I just want to drive around with my music loud and pretend I’m not a mom, or a wife, or an office manager. I want to be someone completely different. What if I had picked a different path?
What would she be like?
Hmmmm…..she would live in a condo, in downtown……Seattle? No… Portland? I don’t know.
She would drive a VW TDI Golf, Red. There would not be broken crayons on the floor, and the seats would not have spots of unknown sticky stuff.
She would work in a fun, swanky clothing store and dress really nice.
She would not own a pair of cotton briefs. Not. One. All her undies would be cute.. and her bras. Cute. Not basic white bought in 3-pack from Costco.
Laundry would not overwhelm her.
She would eat out a lot, and not at fast food places.
She would like to cook.
Men would want her, but they are merely a hobby for her.
Bleh. I’m done. Honestly, I don’t know that I would even like “her.” She is probably lonely wishing she had a husband and kids to crack her up. She would not have developed the sense of humor that I have….had to have.
I will still need to go for a drive by myself now and then. With my music loud and my mind in la la land (eyes on the road). I need to. I always come back home.