I don’t have a flipping clue what I’m doing

Can we all just agree I have no clue what I’m doing? Not just with WordPress, but with life, writing, retirement, hell, I can’t even figure out what I want to eat for breakfast anymore.

Okay. WordPress really is giving me a headache tonight, but that was just the straw which broke the camel’s back.

My whole life I’ve been secure in who I was, what I was, and where I would be at this point in my life. Yea. That shit flew out the window a few years ago and I’ve been flapping around on the dock ever since.

I know. I know. I’m middle aged and I must be facing the dreaded mid-life crises. Well, whatever the hell it is, I don’t like it. I thought I could avoid it. Hell no. This crap has hit me in the face with all the sagging arms, chicken chins, and wrinkled skin you could imagine. I went to bed one night, really cool and hip. I woke up the next morning with a house dress on, floppy shoes, grey hair, and the ability to sneeze with my legs crossed so tight, I could flatten a quarter. What the actual hell is up with that? Wisdom my ass. I want my body back. While we’re at it. I would like the ability to drive more than 2 hours without stopping at every rest stop. Forget driving cross-country, I can’t even make it to the next town without stopping for a snack, a bathroom break, and asking for directions at least 3 times just to exit the damn parking lot.

A few of the things I have discovered over the last few years include; I’m not as smart as I thought I was, I’m not ever going to fit into a size 12 again (nor a 14), and red wine gives me a headache. Oh. To top it off, I’ll probably die a cat lady and when the police find my body, I’m sure one of the cats will have feasted on my face. The whole “cat eating my face off” actually doesn’t bother me as much as the fact I will probably be found naked (after falling out of the shower or something), and my death will be one of those stories told to rookies for years to come.

It will be the briefing where they tell the rookies not to upset the old fellow in the corner too much, because he still has flashbacks to the old, bloated, naked, cat lady he found, 2 weeks after she was dead, broken from her bathroom fall, with her face eaten off by her favorite feline.

See, that’s not how I want to be remembered. Geez. Let me pass away having really great sex or something. Let the police tell the story of the 80 year old woman passing away in the bed of her young lover. Anything would be better than being remembered as the lady who gets her face eaten off my her cats.

Where was I? Oh yes. Mid-life crises. WTH? So, here I am. I know everything there is to know about the Army. I can quote regulations, make the best spreadsheets and power-points seen on planet Earth, I know how to fight, shoot, and plan all the troop movements any Risk player would need to win the cold war. Then it all ends.

Retirement. Now I’m trying to learn what the hell a Twitter is (news flash, not a bird), how to use a blog (not where you would find mud – I know. It’s “bog”), and what the hell is up with all the new phones? Must we have a new phone every year? Why does every new phone come with different cables? Hell. I finally learned to use my old phone and acquire enough cables that I have one in each room, car, and even a solar charger. What the hell am I supposed to do with all these cables now? Is it really so flipping hard for the phone makers (Apple, I’m looking at you) to make new phone without requiring we invest our life savings to replace all the cords needed to run these things? Let’s not forget the covers? I finally had a cover I loved. Now I need a new cover. What the hell is up with that? I guess Amazon is really going to love me when I am done trying to upgrade from my 5 year old phone to this new one.

Oh, don’t worry. I’m not sponsored by either Apple, nor Amazon. Those just so happen to be the only two companies I know how to use at all, so they are the only ones I can speak about in any sort of way that doesn’t sound like a 5 year old. Never-mind, scratch that. 5 year old children know more about this tech stuff than I do.

Okay. Back to the point of this post. As a way to have free post-retirement therapy , I started a blog 1.5 years ago, and switched to WP damn near 1 year ago (around March 20, 2015). I figured who better to give me therapy ideas than the people who blog everyday, and work their feelings out with each other. Like group therapy in your PJs. Well, as soon as I switched over to WP, I lost a few followers, and even lost some of my blog entries. They weren’t that great anyway, so no big lose. But the entries I made here were somewhere fun and open. Now, some of them are messed up.

While look back over my archived blog entries, I realized some of them are missing, deleted, or the photos are no longer work because I did not format the entry correctly or upload the photos correctly. Please bare with me, if you see huge gaps in my previous year blogging, it’s because I was too stupid to know how to use WP on a regular basis, I couldn’t remember by password and I was too tired to figure it out, or, due to my own blogging and format errors, I’ve had to go back and make some of my prior entries private. Those blogs aren’t fit for man or beast at the moment. It will take me some time to fix them, if I fix them at all. We may be stuck with just going forward with what I had and fixing a few hear and there when I have time. Until then, let’s get back to my original issue.

What is a divorced, middle-aged, woman supposed to do when her plans went complete off the rails? Well, I guess I need to find a different set of tracks and a different train to ride on. Sounds very poetic doesn’t it? It isn’t. I’m dreaming of another life, and I’m trying to convince myself not to chunk it all out the window, become a hobo, and grab the midnight train to no where.

It sounds very romantic until reality sets in. There’s a few issues with that plan. I’m warm where I am, my cat makes me happy, I like my bed, and I really like indoor plumbing. Either I’m becoming senile, or I have figured out middle age isn’t so bad after all. I have the modern convinces of home, which are nice and comfy, and I have coffee here. Yep. I do believe the idea of middle aged is settling in just fine.

There seems to be one more issue. I’ve got to make this 40 something brain work on 5 year old equipment. The learning curve is overwhelming on some days. I will have to knock it out little by little. …. or throw it out the damn window and start over. Learning it is cheaper. I need to save the tech money for possible new wheelchairs, walkers, beds, you know, those kind of silly toys old folks need. I really want a sports car at 80, so we’ll see. Wheelchair or sports car? Let’s hope fate love me. Until the time I’m in a wheelchair, or in a medical bed, I still have a very long way to and I need to figure out these crazy issues with  my WP.

I swear, before I figure it out, I really think this thing is going to force me to take up drinking. Anything other than cheap red wine will be OK.

Until next time….. Be safe, be kind, and always be happy.

 

 

 

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