Birthday is Approaching...(T-Minus 2 Days)

...and I'm freaking out. Again.

Those of you who know me long enough know that I do this every year. My Peter Pan complex kicks in and I lose it. The only way to get past it is booze, pills, pot, and a good lay.

Or a really good vampire novel.

But this birthday...is the big 3-5.

Mid-thirties. Hm. Wow. Okay.
Nope. Not buying it. Sorry...

Here's what I thought I'd have/be by this age:
1) A husband
2) At least two kids
3) My own home
4) Some kind of profession in the theatrical/entertainment industry
5) A menagerie of pets
6) Famous on some kind of level...

Here's what I have/have had by this point:
1) I've had TWO husbands. Unfortunately, I just don't have one now.
2) The menagerie of pets have become my kids and I have 4.
3) I rent an apartment that allows my landlord to have me by the shorthairs.
4) I peddle books. Yeah, yeah, I have a great health care package, so whatever, but my entertainment industry stuff is all outside of what I get PAID for.
5) The only thing I'm famous for is in Mississippi for how many bong hits I could do.

Um, did I miss the boat somewhere? This is becoming strangely reminiscent of a Pink Floyd song. I could remember the name of it, if only I wasn't getting so GODDAMN OLD that my memory wasn't going (that and all the meds I'm taking).

Fuck me.