For the past few months I’ve felt so unaccomplished. I’ve been doing everything in the fast lane and suddenly I wish to slow down. I wish nothing more than to slow down.
I don’t think I can.
I’ve done so many things, been so many things for so long that I can’t seem to stop and yet, I feel like the things I produce are lacking, I feel as though I am lacking. I’m almost 22. I started college at 17, I graduated college at 20, started my masters at 21 and through all of that I’ve worked and worked and worked and I’ve pushed and pushed and pushed and I’ve dated and dated and dated and now I am marrying.
It is no wonder that I’ve found my work lacking these past two semesters of graduate school. I often wonder if I was ready for all of this.
And when you throw a wedding on top of my leaning, poorly frosted cake of accomplishments then what do you get? You get a smashed cake with ants crawling through it.
My life is just an ant-infested cake.
Oh and I am trying to move into a new home, trying to hold the attention of a Sunday school class full of pubescent teenagers, trying to think of ways to advertise my fiance’s business, trying to lose ten pounds, trying to clean up after four dogs and five adults and I am trying to finish my prospectus so I can graduate early and start providing for my family; this list can go on and on and on and on.
I want to explode. This cannot be normal. The ants in my cake better watch out because my cake may have a bomb in it.
And when the cake explodes, then the house will catch on fire. And where will I be then? I would be a woman with an exploded ant-infested cake in a burning house.
My tail feathers are on fire, someone please dump a bucket of water on me. Thanks.
I need to go buy something.
