I’ll spare you the, “it’s been a while since I blogged spiel,” and get right into it. I”m crazy. Well, sort of. I mean I feel like we all have a piece of crazy. You know that one quirk that if it were to be grouped with a bunch of other stuff in someone else it might be signal that the brain isn’t working right.

Honestly, I probably have several pieces but I identified one today and like true blogger fashion in our share it all society, I want to tell you about it. It’s the level in which I get distracted. I know, I know, it seems so lame and so typical and anti-climatic. However, I’m not talking about your regular everyday distractions. Like when I waited for a book to come so that I could send it to someone along with another package and then the book came and I still sent the package without the book. That’s regular distracted forgetfulness (at least for me). I’m a mom of a one-year-old so I feel like I get a pass on that one.

I’m talking about I get distracted and forget to accomplish life plans. That’s not crazy? Listen, when I was 17 I knew when I turned 18 I was going to come in a good some of money (more than 75k). I talked at length with my Aunt Bonnie about my plans to open a clothing boutique. At the time I was a student at a University in Virginia. Me being the Brooklyn girl I am had my Brooklyn style thing going on. There was always someone asking where I purchased a pair of boots, jeans, or a jacket I had. So I’m like yeah I’m going to open a boutique.

So I turn 18 and get the money. I buy myself a car get an apartment, start paying my own tuition, and legit forget about the whole damn boutique. Like who does that? Really had the plan like two seconds before the finances and still forgot the plan. Not just forgot like dang what was I talkng about the other day but then three days later recall. But years blow by (and the money blows too). I think I was like 26 when I remembered I was supposed to open the doggone store. Didn’t even live in Virginia anymore. Was back in Brooklyn where I am mad regular.

Now don’t go sending me a bunch of hate mail about how being regular is acceptable. Nah it ain’t for me. Cause I straight forgot to be great. How the eff you forget a life dream? I still have dreams of opening a sneaker boutique. I don’t even know if I can blame it on the weed. Had life really gotten in the way already at that age?

It’s like that time when I was near graduation and my school sent me a letter about a new degree program, a M.F.A for Creative Writing and Publishing. I tossed the letter talking about, “I’m not going back to school after this. If I could talk to my younger self, I’d shout, “Fool, you write. That’s what you do. Take your a$& to school and get degree in it.” But no, I ended up going back like 15 years later to get my M.A. cause that’s when I remembered it would be good for me.

So now I’m older and wiser (the latter is debatable) and I am working on not forgetting to be great. It’s not as easy as you think given that I fell asleep with the baby and almost forgot I was writing this blog.

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