Ready, Set, Done!

I talk to myself a lot at work. In fact, even outside of work, I talk to myself often.

I could be going senile at a young age, but I think that it has everything to do with my internal dialogue always going.

Whether I express what I’m feeling to someone or not, I’m thinking it. I’m always thinking something, but I’ll never admit to it. Sometimes I don’t want to tell anyone what I’m thinking; other times, I want to tell someone, and there’s no one around that I feel I can express my thoughts to. I also don’t want to seem like I’m complaining too much.

There are times, however, when things are too funny to keep to yourself… or when you know that one of your friends will appreciate what you’re thinking or what’s on your mind.

For instance, when it comes to attractive guys, I can always turn to C. She’s one of my coworkers, and even though she is dating someone, she still appreciates “God’s art”, as my mother calls it. Look, hey… it’s all good. God made things beautiful, and that includes some men. People don’t stop looking good just because you’ve found someone to call your own. You just admire and appreciate it, and move on.

Speaking of God’s art, I really haven’t had much luck in that department. When I was younger, I used to say I was an unofficial cougar because I attracted men younger than I really was. Now that I’m nearly 30, it seems like the age gap between me and the guys that approach me is getting larger!

It’s a good thing that I like younger guys or else that would be really depressing.

The most recent guy that has tried to talk to me is 20 years old. TWENTY YEARS OLD! I must be a lioness because I am steady attracting these cubs!

Well, at least he was a handsome thing. He had an amazing military jacket, and I told him so. He also said that he liked my hair. I did something to help him out the other day, and he responded by giving me his number. My girls at work saw this, and they were just a-cheesing away! They harassed me for half the day about it, but it was all in good fun. Of course, they ask me what’s going on with him… and to be honest, I don’t know if anything will happen.

He’s nearly 10 years younger than me, and I may not have thought to ask his age had he not asked how old I was. Heck, I forget my age half of the time. I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like when you’re 29, but I rarely feel like I’m that age. Sometimes I try to forget; compared to the people I work with, I feel super old! They’re all around 10 years younger than me, and make me feel like I’ve failed at life somehow.

oh well.

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