Good fucking grief. How’d I get here?
I don’t think I really understand time. All these years on this planet and it’s not “the cloud” that confuses me (I don’t even really know what the hell it is and before you geeky people message me to explain it; just don’t. I don’t care. I know my pictures and shit are “there”, wherever that is) but time is this crazy intangible rulers of our lives.
For example…do you remember going to a friend’s house for a slumber party or that first long french kiss that touched your soul? You know they lasted for hours but it was like you slipped through a wrinkle and it was just minutes and time slipped away. Other times, you had a job that sucked and dragged on forever. Same amount of time, but the action dictated how you would experience it.
Life is the same. Some days disappear like grains of sand through your fingertips and other days are an anchor holding you in place. It all depends on the experience.
Forty-seven years means I remember at random moments things like:
- having a phone with a rotary dial
- listening to records on a Saturday afternoon
- getting a remote control TV and later on a VCR and microwave
- when MTV only played music videos
- having a massive crush on George Michael
- the Christmas craze of Cabbage Patch dolls
- wearing pink AND blue eye shadow – at the same time
- playing PacMan on an Atari
- spraying Jean Nate’ on my wrists
- waiting for that favorite Madonna song to come on so you could record it and play it later on your Sony Walkman
- Swatch watches
- parachute pants
- sipping Clearly Canadian
- driving a Fiero
- wearing a pager
- waiting for friends at the gate of an aiport
- having a Palm Pilot
- having a phone installed in my car
- watching Ally McBeal
- buying a home with no credit or money down
- watching the market crash
- short-selling a house
- being in awe of Avatar
- watching a black man become our President – followed by watching a lunatic becoming one, too
I’ve seen a lot of unbelievable shit in my lifetime. It all tells me two things:
- Life is amazing – don’t miss a single thing. Good. Bad. Indifferent. Experience it all.
- You can do anything you set your mind to. Keep dreaming!
It makes me wonder what the next forty-seven years will be like since the last were so incredible? I’m pretty sure whatever I can imagine and type, there is some fabulous inventor and innovator already out there with a concept, written plans, manifesting a new, cooler life for all of us. #MadRespectForThem
Before I go much farther about being forty-seven, let’s talk about being forty-six, shall we?
Last year on this day, I gave notice at my job. I remember it so well. I had plans to go into private consulting, was going to write a book, beef up my calendar with speaking engagements – I was totally GOING for it!
My ex-husband made sure that didn’t happen. Just sixty days after my forth-sixth trip around the sun, I would be jobless and penniless and pretty much just unhappy. My kids rallied around and they helped pick up mom’s heart that was shattered into a million pieces. (I’m pretty sure if you pull the fridge out from the wall, parts of it are back there with the dust bunnies just chillin’.) I was a mess.
I’m still a mess, just not a hot one.
A week after I got divorced in September 2017, I met a man. He’s handsome, big blue eyes, really great shoulders, and funny. I MEAN REALLY FUNNY! I’ll be honest – I didn’t expect him to stick around much. He was recently divorced himself, and well, I feel pretty sure I’m not the girl many guys want to bring home to their parents and say, “Here she is!” I always imagine the questions afterwards like, “Wow, what does she do for a living?” Then the awkwardness of saying, “Well – err – I’m not really sure but something with social media.” Yeah, that probably goes over really well with the parental units.
Yet, here I am turning forty-seven and that guy is still around. I think it’s because my dad gave him a 1982 Cardinals World Series Coke bottle. (Hey – whatever it takes, right, ladies?)
So, what do I hope this next year will look like?
I’m not even sure I really know. I will tell you what I do want, though:
- I do know I’m tired of feeling inadequate.
- I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for someone anymore.
- I want a companion who loves me – the real Sheryl – and thinks it’s pretty great.
- I want to enjoy my kids and who they are as adults.
- I want to feel my grandkids in my arms as often as I can make that happen.
- I want to finish my book, Females And Finance.
I’m pretty good at manifesting most things in my life, except for the love part. I went ahead and threw that in for good measure in my list above, but have no expectations in that department whatsoever. In the end, I have to be enough for myself.
I intend to spend time this year enjoying everything I can. Tastes. Textures. Sights. Feelings. Colors. Smells. Soaking everything in so I can recollect all the little things. Whether I do that alone or with someone, I’m going for all of it.
This blog will continue to be about warrioring on in the second half of my life. Telling stories. Watching time and action and experience collide and converge into an amazing threesome of what will be memories-of-a-once-47-year-old.
“Time is the coin of life. Only you can decide how you want to spend it.” – Carl Sandberg