big picture

I had always thought at 35, (I know, not there yet) I'd be a lot of things. Published for one. I look at my life and books, and I am not even close. I am also not in Montana in a lone farmhouse with a brood. Things I had always wanted when I was younger. Seems like life has a way of sort of carrying away the things you wanted in life and replacing it with the mediocre and mundane realities. Oh, I know it is all my own fault, my fate has always been in my own hands, but it always seemed like I had plenty of time. Suddenly time is no longer plentiful and I have still not left port. I guess for one, I should really start working on my books, and Montana can come when I have that under my belt. The brood, well, I guess I could settle for two. I am not getting any younger and I think it's time to start taking the reigns a bit.