I have a silly superstition that every other year is a "bad" one... and you guessed it, this is one of those.
This may seem kind of a negative way of thinking but so far my 27th year is not turning out all sweetness and light.
I feel like I'm losing in every respect of my life.
Everytime I start to pull up level with the rest of the runners, I trip over something stupid, fall over and I'm last again.
Sometimes I realise that I've been running the wrong race and even though I just won, it doesn't mean anything.
I have no ambition. No drive. No idea of what I want to do with my life.
Things that make me happy will not earn me enough money to eat and I can't seem to get my head around doing anything to rectify this.
Everyone around me seems to be moving forward. Getting married, divorced, having kids, buying houses, graduating, enrolling... doing something. But me... well, I'm just thinking about moving again. If at first you don't succeed, take the next plane out of there!
Apparently I am so wonderful that I am impossible to fall in love with. My ex-boyfriend doesn't even know why he feels compelled to leave me. I'm sure as soon as he hooks up with a 19 year old Russian model he'll figure it out.
I'm wallowing in self pity, watching Sex and the City, eating cake and reading my star signs religiously.
I'm just waiting for that magical alignment of my planets that will make everything okay again.
Until then, I'm off to Italy. At least there no-one will understand what I'm moaning about. Ciao!