Entry Three

Today was so slow at work today that I was convinced that I had come up with so many things to blog about today but then of course as I sit down to write this my brain has moved on into a completely different direction - sometimes I do really think that I should be tested for ADHD - although I really don't think that before I can really get absorbed into things - really I know the truth my brain just moves waaay faster then anyone else. Hello? Have you ever tried to follow my conversations? I change topics without even letting the person I'm talking to know that we've changed.

This, by the way, is not the point of today's blog.

The point of today's blog is that I'm terrified of being normal. I know, I'm far from normal I get way to addicted to the most random things and I'm 23 and have never dated and I live with my sister and her husband. None of these things are particularly normally but it's still not want I want.

Sometimes I worry that 10 years from now I'll be settled and married with kids and probably still at Discover but working my way up and life will be ok. There's nothing wrong with that life, isn't that what everyone wants? I know my Mom said that that was all she wanted once, the Leave it to Beaver life. Six months ago that would have terrified me now the part that worries me is that I'm kind of accepting of that. That that is the natural order of things, people get married and they have kids and they have normal lives. They don't publish books and make movies and that a part of growing up is accepting that.

Ick. I used to be so convinced that that wasn't the life I was going to live. That I was going to stay single and write PG and the world would be as such. That's still the life I want so badly, to be that famous author but I have doubts. Although I suppose JK Rowling didn't think she was going to be who she is now. Regardless.

I realize this post is making no sense and here I go again changing gears. Even as I resign myself to the fact that I'm just going to have that normal average life I know that wont happen. Not because I have faith that I'm going to get the life I want but because somehow I know that I'm just never going to get that average life. Sometimes I think that that's because I'm not going to live that long, morbid I know and it's ick to think about because no one likes to think about dying young. But I also don't want to be that person who can't stand on her own two feet, living with her sister and her husband. My aunt still lives with my Gma and Gpa - granted she got married and had kids and then was living with them, but in forty years is that going to be me?

I hate uncertainty. I want to be able to believe in PG that it really is as great as what I built it up in my head, but all authors love their books and only so many of them get published. Fewer still become best-sellers. But I leave this blog with this one uplifting thing:

Stephenie Meyer got published right?

Just saying.