SHIT IS SHIT

No adventures to report.

I'm starting the countdown to my 31st, birthday and I've been seriously irresponsible with my funds. I have cute clothes, shoes and things, with maxed out credit cards, a soon to be expired vehicle registration sticker on a Mercedes with a couple of miles left until the warranty wears out.

I've been clubbing in the middle of the week, neglecting work, skipping meetings and avoiding housecleaning until one hour before company arrives. I have a villa in Jamaica that's sucking up money and I don't have the energy or drive to go through the process of selling it, so I've decided if it takes years to complete it then years it will have to take.

I've been seeing a personal trainer for the past two months and he's more than I can afford, but my body is looking better than ever, so I find a way to pay him for the six weekly hours of his hot, stinky breath in my face, yelling at me to do 50 more sit-ups. I'm trying to keep my word and pride, by not calling him, even though I told him not to call me anymore and lose my number. He's all I think about right before I grab Oscar from my nightstand or turn down some random guy at the club. I wear make-up and make sure my hair is on point, just in case I run into him while out on the road. I've already conjured up a plan if I don't hear from him by my deadline of two weeks. I'll call him and pretend as if I meant to call someone else and strike up a conversation. I've eliminated all gutter dicks and stable warmers for him and I don't want to recruit anymore penis for the spring/summer.

My mother wants to retire at the end of the year and I want to throw her a big party and send her on a trip to visit our family in London, but I can't even afford to put gas in my car.

This is not how I envisioned my life to be at 31. My head was filled with images of a woman. A grown ass woman. I feel like a 20 something who could care less about the future, my 401k or my credit score. I'll be on vacation for one week for my birthday and I'll be stuck in the house with netflix movies, bottles of ginger wine and cake because I can't afford to do anything else.

Even though my shit is all out of wack, I know there is someone out there who is feeling as shitty as me multiplied by 1 million. I'm not the only one with a pile of shit on my plate and compared to others my shit is hard and piled in a nice stack instead of that watery shit, running off the sides of the plate. But shit is shit, no matter how you weigh it and I guess life wouldn't be worth living if we didn't have a stack of it to balance and juggle.