I Feel Tired, Oh So Tired

My ex-husband and I divorced when our daughter was three. We met when we were young - he was 19, I was 23. He moved in after we'd been dating for three weeks, so that should tell you how intelligent I was back then. On our first anniversary, he proposed. It was actually a sweet proposal. ted by my best friend, of course. She helped him pick the ring, and he made me Build-A-Bear in a little tux with "Will you marry me?" recorded on his little bear paw. Of course, I said yes. We were engaged for quite a while, and when we found out that I was pregnant, we decided to put off getting married until after Alex was born. Alex wasn't planned. Neither of us had ever wanted kids, and we were both very career focused. We had good jobs, and pulled in six figures between us. All that changed when my beautiful baby was born. Nate, my husband, and I decided that it was best if I quit my job and stay home to raise the baby. At the time, even though we worked for the same company, ...

In my younger days, I blogged all the time. I've always found it easier than journaling, which is evidenced by the multitude of barely-begun journals lining my bookcase. When you write a journal, you know going into it, that you're writing solely for yourself, and the odds of anyone else ever reading your most fascinating thoughts are slim to nil. When you blog, you're also probably writing for an audience of one, but you can convince yourself that you're not. As someone who airs my every inappropriate thought to the masses, much to their dismay, this obviously appeals to me more. So, now in my mid-thirties, I'm back! And the world has my sincerest apologies for that. In my youth, I was a little wild and crazy. If I wasn't working 60-70 hours a week (for a pretty decent salary), I was partying myself into oblivion. Fast forward a dozen years, and life has slowed down significantly. If you've ever ridden Heimlichs Chew-Chew Express at Disneyland, then you...