Ten Years Ago I Was...

Sometimes having writers block sucks because you get these great ideas and then you sit down to write them out and all that flows from my fingers is bleh. So I subscribed to a writer's group that sends out daily writing ideas to spark you into writing. For the most part I avoid them because A.I'm a snot B. Inspiration hits. C I forget what they are and get lost on random tangents. D. I just don't feel like writing. But this week one is partly inspired by Lady Antebellum's song "Dancing Away With My Heart".

The topic was Ten Years Ago I Was...

I was eighteen years old and I had just graduated from high school. When people ask me what my high school experience was like I always tell them I wanted to be EMO but I couldn't afford the clothes. Besides by the time I discovered the EMO movement it would have been really confusing to my college roommates if I ran to my room slammed the door and yelled "Nobody understands what I'm going through!" or sit there with all the chains dripping off me going "If life was so fair why do roses have thorns?" that would have been a just a little sad.

Eighteen was one of those definitive year for me. I was going through that horrible "Who am I? What am I doing with my life" Taylor Swift song lyric moments I was stuck to put it nicely. I was getting ready to go on my mission, working as an ice cream scooper (a rather common theme of my life sadly), and  I was living with my parents. All my friends were in college or off getting married,  or they just vanished (I don't know what happened to them maybe a random shark attack?).  I was to but it bluntly waiting for my life to start.

At this point you are waiting for me to make a big dramatic statement like it was the last summer of my innocence or I really grew up that summer and after my annulment  I learned that life is hard. Nope. I learned that I still liked mint chocolate ice cream, floating around in a pool reading a good book, that I don't well with out a project, and I slept a lot. 


Ten years ago I was eighteen waiting for my life to start. Ten years later my life started and I like it. 




The end. 


For now. 


Unless I feel all Taylor Swift like and write some moving country song about my innocent first love and how the semi truck ran her over flat.