I bring to you an edition of "That's What She Wrote"
Because I wrote this a while ago and it found me again today and I thought, hey, I like that. And now I am going to share it with you.
It's called "Prologue: The Balloon"
I'm not exactly sure what it is a prologue to. All I know is that it's a story that has more to tell so this isn't the end, yet.
When Ginny woke up on the morning of her thirtieth birthday, she didn’t feel exactly as old as she thought she would.
Not feeling her age was something that happened to Ginny a lot. Her age seemed to her like a bobbing balloon on a string that followed her, only catching up when she tugged hard on it, jarring in to keep up the pace.
On her thirteenth birthday, she had expected to wake up and feel different. Glossier, more put together, more confident. What she got instead was a Celine Dion CD, a Beanie Baby and the feeling that her milestone of becoming a teen, more half of a woman, was an after thought to those around her.
Eighteen was a good year, filled with friends, concerts, the excitement of college and an entirely new world and life.
Ginny can’t remember any more birthdays until she turned twenty one. And, thanks to entirely too many shots of cheap whiskey and sugary, made up concoctions, she barely even remembered the details of that birthday either.
After that, her balloon started preceding her. “This is your age, this is that path you should be taking,” said the balloon, who had at some point gained more heft and influence over the years.
So Ginny followed.
Today was the day she would hit what she thought another huge milestone and she felt a sense of raising expectations. High expectations had always gotten Ginny into trouble in the past. She had a long history of expecting people to act more generous, more accepting. Hell, she even thought people should be funnier than they really were. High expectations usually just led to disappointment.
This year, she vowed it would be different. In just the last three years her life had done a complete 180. She felt like finally this might be the future that was validated. She had good reason to believe that this year would be better than the last.
As always, when she was excited or nervous about the day ahead, Ginny woke up three minutes before her alarm. Seconds later, her phone went off with a text message alert.
“Good morning, pretty girl,” it read.
Ginny smiled. It was going to be a good day.
Thanks for reading.