I’m approaching thirty. A matter of months and the age that people seem to dread will be upon me. I never understood why people cared so much about turning thirty. Although twenty-five hit me hard. I guess it’s become one those moments in life when you are forced to reflect. The end of an era. Your fearless twenties have left the building and the What The Fuck Am I Doing With My Life thirties creep on in and take a big dump on your face. For some people.

Which of course is now leading my overly anxious mind down that dangerous path. Give a bitch an inch.

So here’s my deal at the moment.

I am the art director for my partner’s advertising studio in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I project manage. Oversee our few designers. Conceptualize projects. Write. Sit at my desk. Occasionally feed O’Connor, my beta fish who sits next to my computer. I went to school to be a graphic designer, got hired as a designer and in the process found love and some direction in life.

I met Chris the day I came in for an interview. Clearly it went well as I not only landed the job, but also found myself with a new beau a few months later. 
It was a natural progression. I got the job because I’m good at what I do. The relationship just kind of happened as we became friends and connected [had to get that out of the way].

By this point you might be bored reading about how I met Chris. That part will be over now. It was brief background to get to where I’m going.

So I work for my partner at the company he created. And it’s great. Creative freedom, great work environment, always something to explore.

But the self reflecting kicks in. The What The Fuck Am I Doing With My Life thirties say hello. Suddenly I am wondering what I have accomplished for myself. I always had grandiose dreams of being this high profile actor. Then being the next great artist. Then designer. I wanted and wanted but never really tried any of it. Maybe I made some baby steps, but the kiddie pool is short lived and suddenly I’m splashing around in piss water wondering what’s going on.

And what is going on?

Do you ever stop and wonder that? It seems to be so easy to get caught up in routine, or just involuntarily accept life as it is. And eventually, once you actually stop and really take a minute to see things as they truly are, you have no idea how you got there. Or what it’s all for. Maybe that’s why people set goals. I’ve never been a goal setter. I gravitate more toward instant gratification, which clearly has not worked thus far as a life plan. I couldn’t even tell you what the goal of this crap that you’re reading is.

[My dog keeps farting.]

That’s not true. I guess the goal of this is to prove to myself that I can write something beyond just weekly blog entries for my job. That I can write something for me that will ultimately make someone else think, “Wow. I’m really glad I read that.”

I mean, it’s a start.

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