“How the f**k did I get here?”
That’s the question I asked myself as I lay in bed. Not just any bed, by the way. The bed in the guest room of my parents’ basement, because, guess what, I lived there. I was unemployed, divorced, fat, and living in my parents’ basement at the age of 45.
I mean, seriously. How the f**k DID I get there?
Hence, this blog. What unconscionable misdeeds had I committed, people had I wronged, horrific decisions had I made that got me lying there in the middle of the night in my parents’ basement unable to sleep and unable to have a glass of wine to get me there?
Oh, and you might find it interesting that since that night in 2012, I have ended up in my parents’ basement a 2ND TIME! Clearly, I need to figure out how this is happening so it doesn’t happen again. And I’m going to figure it out here in public with this blog. Which begs the question, “who would want to read that?”
Well, hopefully not my mother. Or my sisters–I have five of them, by the way. Oh, this is also why I’m using a pseudonym: Beatrice. Beatrice the Boundless, to be specific. Why Beatrice the Boundless? Because “Beatrice the Unmitigated Disaster” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
Anyway, hopefully you’ll want to read my blog, because maybe my mistakes will prevent you from ending up unemployed, divorced, fat, and living in your parents’ basement at the age of 45. Or maybe you’ve already been there and will find extreme joy in ridiculing me. Ridicule away, baby! I love to make people laugh.
Or maybe nobody will read this coming-of-age-yes-I-know-I-came-of-age-a-million-years-ago stuff, and that’s ok, but I’m bored. Mind-numbingly bored. So I’m thinking: do I volunteer for noble causes that I believe in or do I add my ramblings to the rambled-out blogosphere? The choice is clear—I should volunteer. But, of course, that’s not the choice I’ve made. Because, as you’ll soon discover, I ALWAYS make the wrong choice. Which I guess is really why I’m writing this blog: to purge my soul of all of my bad, stupid antics and questionable behavior that led me to that depressing night in my parents’ basement and NEVER END UP THERE AGAIN.
The bad decisions end right now.
Then again, I did just make a decision to publicly purge my soul, so….