Intro

Blogging about my life sounds more like an activity for a 20-something emo girl living in a studio apartment in Capitol Hill, someone with the time and inclination to make earnest pronouncements about the meaning of life. I know that sounds condescending, but actually part of me would like to roll back the clock & be that emo girl, on my own. I'd be pretty good at it. Back in the day I did lots of soul-searching- I wrote in spiral notebooks rather than posting in cyberspace, but still... I spent hours scribbling stuff about the war,politics love, sex, books & music. I was so convinced that I could discover the ultimate meaning of life somehow in acid, literature, a long-haired earnest boy, the new Dylan album- but as Bobby would say, I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Not in terms of chronological age- in April I will be 60, for God's sake. But I don't have many expectations any more.

One day at a time, as they say- although honestly I'm not very good at that. I'm the classic codependent-child of an alcoholic father, wife of a chronically depressed man, and mother of a meth addict. Quite the resume. I want to control situations that are uncontrollable- I know it won't work but I keep trying.

In my fantasies I travel back in time, change my childhood, change my marriage, change my son's addiction- and I can't do any of that.

So here I am, in a suburban house that is way too big for 3 people but still seems cluttered & stifling, working for a big corporation, always running 10 minutes behind, always tired, wondering what the hell happened.