My next barfday is 45. It feels like a bigger milestone than 40 that I could ignore because of my childish personality.

I'm not going to lie. But I was born with a blessing and a curse. I was a multitalented child. I thought I'd BE something, including creating something. I'm also given a short attention span and a weak drive. So here I am. I have so many years and so little I really did.

On top of that I'm sick so I can't really say this is mid life, most likely I'll die in my late 50s or 60s.

Still I can't get going. It's like being stuck in quicksand. One false move and it gets worse!

I have so much hassle with daily life I forget how deeply unhappy I am about this. But when I think of it, it's like a weird dream, like last time I blinked I was 25 "with my whole life ahead of me".

I'm gonna go hide under a rock now. Feel free to put a blanket on and have picnics on my rock. Summer is coming and everyone is happy where I am.