maybe things are not always meant to be....

I have a plan for this weekend, it's quite sophisticated, it involves getting very drunk and lounging around! I've decided I am tired of being a responsible grown up. Being a responsible grown up means never getting to do what you want, having to be diplomatic at all times, and not being able to throw the towel in when it all becomes too much.
Also in my case being a grown up has meant stress, the inability to relax, or not to worry about other peoples happiness constantly and putting it above my own at all times.
I don't remember being quite so pessimistic as a child, in fact I know I wasn't. I wonder how many people have mourned their childhood, I have. Don't get me wrong, life's not all bad, just sometimes feels very hard work, without a break to recoup and regain strength, some things about being a grown up are fabulous. Like living in my own home, with a boy, being able to get pissed (which I still do to spectacular effect, sorry Rachel and Tim for the last episode) driving, earning money even if my job is so dull it makes me want to remove my eye balls by jabbing pens into them. But when I was a kid I don't remember wanting all these things, so maybe that is the reason they don't seem so sweet, who knows. All I know is it's time to let go a little, I would like to relax, someone said to me this week that their husband can never relax, that if they are going out somewhere he can't understand the point of going for a drink at a friends place first, he just wants to get to the going out part, and sometimes my life feels like that, always waiting for something else to come along, like today, when I woke up I was waiting to get to work, then I am constantly on the count down to lunch, then after lunch the count down to home time etc etc, it's like I am waiting my life away!
I know what I want to do with my life, I want to write, it is the only thing I have ever been good at, I want books with my name on, I want people jetting off on holiday to be consider a paperback in the airport book shop that has my name on it.
Unfortunately writing does not pay well, or at all, and so far no-one has been willing to give me a go at it for money, so life fuels my pessimism, which is so much sadder still, like a hamster in a wheel, around and around we go, where will it stop, no-one knows, but hopefully somewhere lushes and green, with that bloke I am going to marry, relaxing in the long grass waiting for me and a book deal at the end of the rainbow.