She Strived For Perfection. She Loved Setting

I'm Never Overwhelmed Or Under It Either; Just Nicely Whelmed. I'm Ok. Nothing Spectacular But Sometimes Special. I Look In The Mirror And See This Medium Average Person. A Little Tired, A Little Sad, But Not Falling Apart.

That's The Thing About Lessons, You Always Learn Them When You Don't Expect Them Or Want Them.

What Seems Tragic Now Won't Even Be An Issue In A Few Years Time.

He Was One Of Those People Who Made You Feel Like They Either Didn't Know Or Didn't Care That You Were In The Room And If They Ever Did Acknowledge Your Existence It Was Bizarrely Score One To You, And Twenty Years Later They'd Tell You They'd Always Had A Crush On You But Never Had The Courage To Say Anything And You'd Tell Them, What? I Didn't Even Think You Liked Me? And They'd Say, Are You Crazy? I Just Never Knew What To Say!

She Didn't Feel Thirty. But Then Again Again, What Was Being Thirty Supposed To Feel Like? When She Was Younger, Thirty Seemed So Far Away, She Thought That A Woman Of That Age Would Be So Wise And Knowledgeable, So Settled In Her Life With A Husband And Children And A Career. She Had None Of Those Things. She Still Felt As Clueless As She Had Felt When She Was Twenty, Only With A Few More Gray Hairs And Crow's Feet Around Her Eyes.