I think I might be having a mid-life crisis. Except, if you do the math, that means I'll only live to 66, although that's 10 years longer than either of my parents made it, but still, not nearly long enough. I keep running from it, like if I can put it off for another decade or two then that must mean I've outsmarted death somehow. It's inevitable. Death, I mean, but that doesn't mean I'm going willingly.

Do you know that it's less than 1200 days until my daughter graduates from high school?

I really can't stop it from happening, and for a control freak like me, nothing is scarier. I have so much I want to do, accomplish, see before that happens and lately I feel like I'm running in circles because I can't decide where to start, what to focus my energy on. I want to write, I started on something I think I'll try to get published, which sadly means I won't be posting it here, but I'm in love with the idea/plot. I wrote a song, actually two, but the first one is... not my story, just my interpretation of someone else's so I'm leaving it up to him.

I am in love with words and the affect they have on people, what they can mean to someone, how they can make someone see something or feel something new or differently. I read like crazy, I sing all the time, and I have music on as much of the time as possible. I dance around and people I love make faces at me, but I want to dance. I get attached to people because I invest myself and my emotions in them. I'm real, and I don't waste time pretending to be someone I'm not.

I feel like I see and hear so much talent every day and I wonder what makes me so different? Is it cause I'm not 18 and blond, even if I do have the rack for it? Not that I want anything that way, cause I don't. I've spent a lot of my life working to get peoople to look past it to my brain. Is it because I'm not skinny to the point of anorexia? It certainly can't be because I don't love it or put my soul into everything I do. Maybe I'm scared. I think that's a safe assumption.

I've been listening to Parachute a bit lately. They have a full sound I really like and the lyrics are just interesting enough to make me to pay attention. Pictures of Spencer Smith smiling from behind his drum kit make my heart swell. Rich has been playing his guitar again, but only when I'm not here to witness it.

I'm going to be Tony's date to his friend's graduation from college. These are kids I've watched grow up, and maybe at some point they'll stop being kids to me, but time is just flying by me and at some point it's going to be upsetting that I can't rein it in, slow it down. It might already be. I used to say that I don't feel any older, just that the kids are getting older. That is still mostly true, but I know (logically) if I take better care of my body, it'll last longer. That's one way to think about it.

Dear Death,

I'll trade you one workout for one more day of life. If these terms are acceptable, please sign below.

Sincerely,

Viv

Knowing myself, I'd spend all day doing that and miss everything else. It's a fine line to walk. I'm secretly hoping that if I admit this here, it'll stave off the impending implosion for a while. I decided the other day that I think Diablo Cody would be an awesome choice to make From Behind Those Eyes into a movie.

On Monday, Rich and I will have been together for 17 years. Longer than we haven't been together, actually. Time is just kicking my ass, it seems like yesterday. Some things never change. On Mother's Day at work, I had this older man ask me if I was going to get to see my mom after work. I told him no, since she passed away 12 years ago. I asked about him, would he be seeing his mom? He said no, same... So I told him we should hang out then. He laughed.

How do you like it here in my head?