Where’s My Proverbial Bucket?


I’m feeling a touch maudlin today. I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.

In any case, as I sit here and listen to Pandora, a song came on by Frank Turner.

 I won’t sit down, and I won’t shut up.

And most of all, I won’t grow up.

I loved this song. It reminded me that I’m getting older, firmly in that stage of my life where, yes, I have the stable career and the young family, and I’m entrenched enough in my life that, even if I could afford to change things, I probably wouldn’t.

I’m young enough that it wasn’t so long ago that I had my whole life stretched in front of me, an endless ocean of possibilities. But then there was college and marriage and more college, and then, finally, real life.

Yes, the real job. The real mortgage. The real debt. The real family. It all adds up to real life.

And some of the possibilities began to fade. For instance, I’m already married and have no plans to change that, so eloping to the Chapel of Elvis (which I totally would have done) is not going to happen. Going back to college for more than a class or two isn’t in the cards (no, Mother, I am not going to go back and get the PhD. So stop asking). The year-long backpacking tour of Europe is probably also out of the question. By the time I can do it, I will be too old to do it. To think about it, I think I’ve made all my major life decisions.

Holy crap, when did that happen? When did I become an actual grown up?

Don’t get me wrong. I love the husband and the kids, and most days, I even love my job. I wouldn’t change any of it if I could. It’s just that the possibilities are not as infinite anymore. Even though I’m a grown up, I still have dreams. I still have things to do, things to write. Only now, these things are for my “bucket list,” which actually sounds a bit on the depressing side, if you think about it.

Hey, here’s a list of things I want to do before I kick the proverbial bucket!

And you know, that list isn’t so different from how it was…a few…years ago. (Bearing in mind that this list is all about ME. Of course, my main wants are that my husband stays healthy, and that my children grow up to be happy, healthy, productive adults. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s begin)

1. I want to live in Europe. Maybe for only a year, but I want to live there. Since my German now sucks, I’d probably have to live somewhere in the British Isles. Oh, that would be agony, wouldn’t it?

2. I want to ride a motorcycle on Route 66. Because I am a clodhopper, I would be perfectly content to ride bitch. Uh… honey? This may be the only time you’d actually get to call me your bitch, and I’d agree to it.

3. I want to see my books published, and I want them to be well received (I guess we’ll see how this goes after December 14, huh? Ack!). Eventually, I want to sit down and actually write my great opus. It has a title and everything, and, in my head, it’s so freaking good. But I have romance novels to write until then.

4. I want to visit the Northeast in fall, and I want to eat lobster in Maine. I have a weird obsession with Nova Scotia, too. Don’t ask. I don’t get it either.

5. I want to go someplace really awesome (Fiji, Tahiti), and have lots of great sex. Yep. I went there. But hey, who doesn’t want to go to an overwater bungalow and do it like rabbits?

What about you? What’s are some of the things you dream about doing?

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Where’s My Proverbial Bucket?


I’m feeling a touch maudlin today. I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.

In any case, as I sit here and listen to Pandora, a song came on by Frank Turner.

 I won’t sit down, and I won’t shut up.

And most of all, I won’t grow up.

I loved this song. It reminded me that I’m getting older, firmly in that stage of my life where, yes, I have the stable career and the young family, and I’m entrenched enough in my life that, even if I could afford to change things, I probably wouldn’t.

I’m young enough that it wasn’t so long ago that I had my whole life stretched in front of me, an endless ocean of possibilities. But then there was college and marriage and more college, and then, finally, real life.

Yes, the real job. The real mortgage. The real debt. The real family. It all adds up to real life.

And some of the possibilities began to fade. For instance, I’m already married and have no plans to change that, so eloping to the Chapel of Elvis (which I totally would have done) is not going to happen. Going back to college for more than a class or two isn’t in the cards. I’ve got the whole ELL endorsement thing going, and it’s killing me. The year-long backpacking tour of Europe is probably also out of the question. By the time I can do it, I will be too old to do it. To think about it, I think I’ve made all my major life decisions.

Holy crap, when did that happen? When did I become an actual grown up?

Don’t get me wrong. I love the husband and the kids, and most days, I even love my job. I wouldn’t change any of it if I could. It’s just that the possibilities are not as infinite anymore. Even though I’m a grown up, I still have dreams. I still have things to do, things to write. Only now, these things are for my “bucket list,” which actually sounds a bit on the depressing side, if you think about it.

Hey, here’s a list of things I want to do before I kick the proverbial bucket!

And you know, that list isn’t so different from how it was…a few…years ago. (Bearing in mind that this list is all about ME. Of course, my main wants are that my husband stays healthy, and that my children grow up to be happy, healthy, productive adults. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s begin)

1. I want to live in Europe. Maybe for only a year, but I want to live there. Since my German now sucks, I’d probably have to live somewhere in the British Isles. Oh, that would be agony, wouldn’t it?

2. I want to ride a motorcycle on Route 66. Because I am a clodhopper, I would be perfectly content to ride bitch. Uh… honey? This may be the only time you’d actually get to call me your bitch, and I’d agree to it.

3. Eventually, I want to sit down and actually write my great opus. It has a title and everything, and, in my head, it’s so freaking good. But I have romance novels to write until then.

4. I want to visit the Northeast in fall, and I want to eat lobster in Maine. I have a weird obsession with Nova Scotia, too. Don’t ask. I don’t get it either.

5. I want to go someplace really awesome (Fiji, Tahiti), and have lots of great sex. Yep. I went there. But hey, who doesn’t want to go to an overwater bungalow and do it like rabbits?

What about you? What’s are some of the things you dream about doing?

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