I’m back from Vegas and that was a good time.
It’s weird; lately every time I go to write a blog post I have to check my actual blog to see what it was I wrote about last.
Maybe because I go too long between writing. Or maybe because there’s no real narrative to my life anymore, at least not a streamlined meaningful one like there used to be…
It used to be I was the newly married girl. I was the girl who moved from Mesa Arizona USA to Southern Alberta Canada and struggled with culture shock and climate shock and other shock. I was the girl who was fighting her way through a bachelor’s degree in English. I was the girl with funny stories. The girl with things to say.
Who am I now?
Five years is too long to be a newlywed. It’s too long to be struggling still with culture shock. I graduated. I have a job. My stories are all work-related or husband-related or church-related, and none of them feel right to write about here.
It feels like there’s nothing to say anymore.
And I get to thinking this kind of thing and suddenly it strikes me: I’M WASHED UP.
My best years are behind me.
I’m a has-been.
Only 25 and my glory days are over.
And the worst part? They weren’t even very glorious.
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