You Think of a Wonderful Thought

Any Happy Little Thought?

I wish all you needed to fly away to Neverland was a happy thought. It's that dang pixie dust that puts a wrench in the plans. If it wasn't so hard to get my hands on, you bet your ass I'd be well on my way to the place where you never grow up. 

Being an adult sucks. No one ever truly tells you that. 

In the past month, I have been put through the ringer. I threw out my back, which is still recovering. I broke my toe, which still hurts. I found an amazing guy that I get along with, who turned out to be in love with his best friend. I got a raise at work, but also got handed a shitload more of responsibility. I discovered termites in my room, which means I have given a whole new meaning to the term "living room." And this morning, I managed to find dirt in the bathtub because our drain decided to have a party last night. 

And after all of this, I have come to the conclusion that Peter was definitely onto something because being a grown up fucking sucks. 

(I guess I should add a disclaimer. I KNOW that I have a good life and that I should be thankful for the roof over my head, the food in my fridge, and the job that I have. And I am NOT saying that my life is horrible or that I have it worse than the next person. I am simply venting to the universe. But if anyone manages to come across some of that pixie dust, PLEASE send it my way.)