(Actually, blogs seem to be on the wane, since our ever-shortening attention span has fostered the rise of Tumblr and Twitter. We can’t be bothered to read more than 144 characters now, it seems. Pity. I so miss 1999-era blogs.)
Anyways, I don’t know if there’s any kind of theme to my life, or if I have a persona. Sad singleton? Cat lady without a cat? Probably. Judging from today’s string of disasters, I would say it’s something like “middle-aged child”.
It’s not funny. I can’t seem to take care of myself. Not in a Courtney Love kind of way, but in a “lacking age-appropriate skills” kind of way. I think if you’re almost 40, you should be able to:
- cook a dish with more than two ingredients
- invest your money in a responsible fashion
- rustle up some kind of social life
- go to bed when you’re tired
- buy insurance before catastrophe strikes
I’m negative on all accounts. Some of my friends have children – it boggles my mind.