What I’ll Never Be

The nice thing about being in your 40s is that you have gotten to know yourself pretty well. You’ve even had time to make some adjustments so you are doing more things you like, letting go of things you don’t really like, and finding that, in general, you’re OK as you are and you still look pretty good. It’s a nice place to be. However, I’m also at a point where I can confidently say, I’ll never be certain things. Cross these off the list of possibilities because they aren’t going to happen.

I’ll never be one of those fashionistas you see in the commercials with the spike heels and 1/2 ton of jewelry. I’m not a big fan of wearing most of my closet at once. I have absolutely been known to be perfectly able to start my day without buying something and I have never mistaken a rebate for free money. I’m not even a big fan of shopping in general and since I can do basic math, I’m not under the impression I’m getting paid to shop when the store has money back or discount programs.


I’ll never be an Olympic athlete. I’m too old, have lousy eyesight, and honestly, no interest, what so ever. I have held an Olympic gold medal before. I got to work at a commercial shoot with Janet Evans and she graciously brought her medals for us to see. They are heavy and it scared the crap out of me that I might drop them. I’m impressed by people who make their sport more than a full-time job but I get distracted by sandwiches. That doesn’t strike me as anyone who has the focus for a medal of any kind.

I’ll never be Amish or a pioneer woman. While I am indeed someone who can knit, spin a little, quilt, and like to grow and can food, you’ll never get my Keurig or my microwave. In fact, I might actually fashion a shiv out of a toothbrush if I thought someone was going to try to take them. If the zombie apocalypse happens, I feel confident that my latent scientific talent will emerge and I’ll figure out a way to work my beloved appliances with a bicycle. Or a broom.


Potential weapons for protecting my Keurig; since I’m not using them for the yard.

I’ll never be one of those people with a perfect house and yard. Even if I hired someone to do them all, it just isn’t my destiny to live amongst that. I knock over too many cans of soda and forget about apples in the bowl on the counter until they start to do something strange with shriveling and cracking open. I have the ability to walk by a sink full of dishes and manage not to even think about them. I think that is a much more useful talent.


Otherwise the help I get around the house would make me crazy.

This last “I’ll never be” also pretty much guarantees that I’ll never be on a reality show. I’m not messy enough for hoarders or one of those cleaning intervention shows but no one really wants to see much of my dirty laundry or counter covered in curtain implements that I keep there in the hopes it will jump on the wall itself.

This blog may be as close as I get to my 15 minutes of fame. Just as well. If I was famous, they’d probably expect me to wear spikey heels, 1/2 ton of jewelry and not be distracted by sandwiches.

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