Count Down to 50

So yesterday I was pretty unhappy about my impending half century mark. I hate the fact that I'm getting old and have very little to show for it so I'm going to list things that I learn or accomplish from now until that fateful day - which I don't celebrate.

Last night I dragged out my crochet stuff - I know - talk about old lady stuff. I decided I would figure out a new pattern. I chose an easy pattern for a dishcloth. I was fairly happy with the way it turned out. I'm not sure that it's right, but it looks ok.

So I am going to figure out how to make a picot stitch and a front post stitch. Those will be my two what did I learn to do today achievements.

I am also going to go outside for a walk. I was diagnosed as having insulin resistance back in December and I lost 16 pounds in three months, but now I've stalled. One of the things I need to continue to do is find time to exercise. I have to wait until the race home past my house slows down and then I'll go for a stroll. 

Approaching 50

So in a few short months, that will fly by with amazing speed, I'm going to turn 50. I'm in a funk, a rut, a downhill slide into a deep dark depression. I look back over the last half-century and I'm not pleased. What do I have to show for it? A failed marriage, a house foreclosure, a repo'd vehicle (and that was before the recession) a bunch of crap minimum wage jobs - even though I have college degrees and yes that's plural.

One degree that I finished but never paid the money to actually have it verified. I'm sorry - I worked my butt off for 6 years, paying thousands of dollars and now you want me to pay you more to have you send me a piece of paper saying that it's official? REALLY?

I've started more projects than I care to remember and never finished them because I ran out of something, time, money, gumption or I was derailed either because I didn't have the support or I had to get another job to make ends meet. I have a lot of good ideas, for someone else, but not a lot of follow-through. These days I don't even dream of new projects because I know I'll never finish them, if I even start them.

My body is slowly falling apart - I've had more things removed than put back in and more things patched with staples and glue. I can't eat much of anything because it's going to raise my cholesterol, my insulin or it's filled with GMOs, hormones, and chemicals.

Yeah, the first 50 years pretty much sucked. Looking ahead to the next 50 - I have student loans that will go with me to the grave, a new mortgage, a car payment and a part-time job because who wants to hire an over-qualified, 50-year-old who has a spotty work history at best. My husband thinks we should buy a run down, falling apart bar so we can add to our debt. My stomach hurts and I think I should go lie down.