Back when I was in ABBA

My first thought this morning, without even kidding: Yay, it’s Friday. Shit, it’s my day to blog!

No, kids, I didn’t forget I needed to post, I just forgot to do it.  Your dear sweet Em is what you’d call swamped right now with the BS of life. Not making excuses for neglecting you, and trust me, you aren’t the only one’s being neglected, just laying it all out there.

Being an adult sucks sometimes.

Remember when we were kids and couldn’t wait to grow up because being an adult was going to rock and it was definitely wasted on our parents who did nothing but work and complain about being overworked.

Holy fuck, y’all. I’ve turned into one of those adults!

Where’d the fun go?

I did, I confess, take one night off and go have a drink and some fattening dessert with the BFF, but for the most part, I’m just one big ol’ party pooper these days.  I thought being an adult was supposed to be cool! This is a total drag.

And now I’m dragging you down with me. Sorry. I’ve yet to have my morning jolt of sunshine.

Anyway, when I was kid, I had this great life planned…an awesome studio in a downtown apartment building, just me and my many cats…nights with a good book and a glass of wine.

The only thing that panned out there were the cats.

Not that I don’t love my life. I do. I love that I have this insane career and that I’m one semester closer to having my MS in Publishing. I love running my kids around to a million things and seeing them grow up. I love my husband. And the dogs that I didn’t think I’d ever have. And my cats.

But sometimes when things get this crazy and bogged down, I miss the life that I dreamed up while pretending I was a member of ABBA (don’t act like you didn’t want to be the blonde chick—me and my sister used to fight over who got to sing her parts) and playing dress up in the cool clothes that were wasted on my overworked mother. I miss my urban life, that studio apartment, the quiet evenings with wine in a good book, as the world rushed by outside my floor to ceiling windows.

Yup, sometimes, I still wish I was in ABBA.

So, where did you think you would be when you grew up? ‘Cuz I know I’m not the only one missing the solitude of her apartment.




7 thoughts on “Back when I was in ABBA

  1. I was going to be on Broadway. Or in movies, but at six feet tall, it’s tougher to find guys to cast opposite me (think Sigourney Weaver) and after a year doing crap theatre in Florida while living in a shit apartment I was pretty much cured of that thought. I still sing my lungs out in the car and, luckily, the kids are still young enough not to object – too much.


  2. I was going to be an oceanographer and explore the oceans with Jacques Cousteau. Since I lived–and still do — in land-locked Indiana (the last seas here were in like the Pre-Cambran era), I’m not sure why I had that dream — but I had it all during high school .


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