there's not much in this world that is more devastating than a dream that is killed just before it is about to be realised. this has just happened to me. it is something that i suppose most people would consider trivial in the general scheme of things. it was afterall, just a job. but to me it was more than that. it was a chance to finally be the me that i've always wanted to be, to prove that i am capable of things, that i can achieve something more than getting out of bed in the morning. it was a chance to make something of myself. to be more than mundane. i have spent the last couple of hours crying tears of mourning for the me that i will never be. none of this is helped by my depression of course. dreaming seems like a fool's game, something i'm not likely to want to partake in again for quite some time. it is no one's fault but it hurts like hell.
Sometimes I meet people and I know instantly that they are awesome! They laugh at the same things I laugh at, they share similar views to me on things, they are clever, sassy and generally pretty neato (I'm mostly talking about other ladies here), and I think to myself, you're pretty fantastic and I would love to have you as my friend and do stuff with you and hang out and talk about life and love and stupid things we've done. Then comes the kicker. How, as a thirty something grown woman, do you ask another grown woman over for a play date or out for dinner, without seeming like a weirdo / lesbian / desperate / friendless / loser? It's much easier for kids to make new friends, they just say stuff like "I like He-Man and you like He-Man and I think that makes you totally the best and we should be best friends forever until we're like, old and wrinkly and our butts sag" then they piss themselves laughing and the friendship is cemented. But that just doesn...
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