Who Am I?

People always characterize themselves by what they are and not who they are. Labels such as mom, wife, employee are all used to say who you are. But that isn’t really true. That is just what you do.

Call it a freaking mid-life crisis or whatever.

When did I stop being just me? Was it when I said “I do” 24 years ago? Was it when I gave birth to my first child 19 years ago? When I became a manager?

I stopped being me when I had other people who were depending on me to be whatever title they gave me.

Ask yourself…Who am I? It’s hard to answer without those damn labels.

I am someone. Someone who:

  • loves to read. Anything. I love my Kindle because I can read those “Naughty Nooner” books for free without anyone knowing about them. I love reading murder mysteries to see if I can solve it by the end. Usually pretty good. Is it because I wish I could be the murderer? Hmm..interesting insight.
  • loves to eat. Almost anything. Except peppers. And anchovies. I do like jalapenos. So there you have it. I contradict myself. Remember this. My kids do. And they remind me about it whenever they can.
  • cries at dumb movies. I don’t when the hell that happened! I never cried over anything. Now it’s like a freaking waterfall. And don’t you say the word perimenopausal. I will send you a virtual kick in the ass!
  • likes being fit but hates to exercise.  I need to come up with a way to exercise at my desk that doesn’t make me tired. I never did get the whole endorphin rush. The pain is too great. Maybe it’s like childbirth.
  • wishes she had more friends. Have I told you, I am a great friend! Oh shit. A label again.
  • wishes she lived on Maui. Seriously. Best place on the planet earth. At least until I get to French Polynesia. Hell will freeze over first, but I live in Minnesota so it already did.

Oh, and yes, despite this post being all insightful, I am still the sassy, blonde bitch.
I will be back.
Until then…tell me. Who are you?