What does one do when one is nearing thirty and still fighting against all odds to be an adult? And what does this same one do if the idea of being an adult is so scary that it makes "Saw II" look like a Disney film?
Upon first hearing that old Britney Spears song (pre K-Fed) "Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman" I thought it was pop drivel. Now? I kinda get it.
And now that I've found a link to a barefoot, white trash prima-donna with a weird flip-flop fetish - I'm going to bed to join my snoring hubby who crashed around 9:30, face-first in to our King bed after being mediator between me and my mother, who refuses to believe that neither my sister nor I are capable of making our own decisions. Much less, the right ones.
I'm obviously annoyed right now.
Annoyed with wondering where a family unit ends and an individual begins.
Annoyed with where my life is and really annoyed that my double chin seems to be growing a friend.
So - I'm off to comfort eat a bag of bagels and a vat of cream cheese.
I just hope that I am not found, 6am, passed out on the dirty white tile, crumbs trailing down my massive boobies and a cream cheese mustache to boot.