Three answers to three questions nobody asked:
Q: Why should I read this blog?
A: You probably shouldn’t. There is definitely something better you could be doing.
Q: What makes you think you are qualified to write a blog?
A: Nothing. But lucky for me, I didn’t have to take an “Are You Fit To Blog?” test, apply for anything or get approval from anyone. Turns out, much like politics, anyone can do it.
Q: Why are you writing this blog?
A: This is a two-parter.
1. BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO. I’ve entered this crazy weird point in my life where I feel like I am losing it, or maybe just figuring it out, and what better way to handle it than by having other crazies validate your craziness? I mean, I know I am not the only thirty-somethingish in the world who is in negative rush to get hitched, probably because I have a mutual agreement with The Children to never be their parent, and I am completely unaware of any biological clock ticking (Broken? Dead batteries? Wasn’t installed with one at birth? Hard to say…now other people’s kids, that’s the ticket), who is leaving an incredibly stable career (in this economy?!) because they were inspired by this stupid sticker with even stupider clichés found on the ground whilst drunk one day (okay, one morning) at SXSW in Austin, Texas:
Quit Your Day Job
See The World
Fall In Love
Ugh. I know.
2. Because when I Quit said Day Job (March 2014!) and leave to See The World (March 2014!), my dear little sister will worry about me every day, and since my one pet peeve is repeating myself (which is pretty much the WORST pet peeve, for a fast-talking mumbler, who slurs every word, to have), I figured this was the best solution to communicate with her, and my two other guaranteed loyal followers (you know who you are). If I don’t post at least once a week, assume I am dead, get your ass to my house, and remove all of the shit we discussed that under NO circumstances, can anyone else see. Ever.
Disclaimer: I have so much left to be about. Don’t be judgey-wudgey before I’ve finished being me.