Leave it to PFunky to set me straight–and some uplifting words from Laurie to put me on a better track.*

I’ve been pissed off all day. On Twitter I was reading about all the “GREAT” and “FANTASTIC” plans people have for the new year. Everyone was so freaking chipper. Apparently I only follow the uber-achievers whose sole purpose in life is to make me feel like a big gigantic loser by comparison.

Where am I going? What am I going to do next? What have I accomplished so far? What do I have to show for my time on this planet? Why was it again I went away to college? And moved away from home? How the heck am I going to make the changes I really want to make in my life?

Oh yeah, and I’m going to be 40 in 2010.

It wasn’t a pretty day.

Just moments ago, I was reminded that we are putting another decade on the books (I mean I knew this, but I didn’t really THINK about it), and then I started to think about my life 10 years ago.

The roof that is over my head? Didn’t belong to me yet.

The kind people I work for now? Hadn’t met ’em yet.

The three crazy, rambunctious, big-hearted boys who make me want to both pull out all my hair and laugh hysterically every single day? One just went back home to live with his mom and the other two were a vague concept.

I may not be world-famous (yet). I may not be the hottest mommy in town (yet). I may even still have that nasty Diet Coke habit (let’s not get too hasty with our resolutions), but I do have a life I couldn’t conceive of just ten years ago.

Makes me wonder how I’ll look back ten years from now.

*I hope you know how much your words meant to me today–always.

I’m not sure what it is–the letdown after the holidays, looking back at a year, anticipating a new one. Whatever it is it has me in a foul mood and wondering if a good, snot-filled cry would make it better.

While everyone else is excited for a new year and new resolutions, I’m sitting here this morning filled with anxiety and wanting to hide.

Being responsible for your own happiness is overwhelming sometimes. There are so many things I have to pretend not to see or feel that it becomes exhausting–like playing a role eight days a week.

Fake it till you make it?

My stiff neck and nasty zits say otherwise.