Last to the Party

I experience a lot of envy against people who have made a success on things like Twitter and Tumblr. I feel so behind, because they found it first and had the creativity to make work for them. As usual, I'm late to the party. Hell, in many ways, it's like I'm showing up to the party right as it's ending. Think about it; it is 2013 and I am just now getting a device that requires me to a screen text.

In some ways, the worst part is the fact that I haven't been at the party the whole time. I feel like I missed my window. I should have been writing and published in my 20s or at least in my early 30s. What was I doing? Why did I let all this time pass? Seriously, what was I even doing? I have 40 years of life and nothing to show for it ex except some yarn raft, this blog, and fat pants.

Ohhhh, and of those three things, I am even late to the party on two of them. I am not a leader or an innovator in my yarncraft. I am someone who is lurking along the sidelines, happily benefiting from the efforts of others. I didn't start my blog when it was a new concept. Blogging had been a thing for years by the time mine began. 

So really, it is just the fatness.  Oh wait. Not even that.  After all, there was that woman who was making all the money by letting people watch her eat. This woman apparently shut up the party way before I did. She understood how to market the fact she was fat and wanted to eat all the time.  She grasped the basic concept that people would pay money to satisfy their morbid curiosity.

It's sad and disturbing and more than a little bit exploitative, however it still beats having to count the change in your car to see if you can afford a latte.  She may have arrived at the party in the middle of the freak show, but she still showed up hours and hours before I did. She still drank the punch.  Hell, she probably spiked the punch. And she certainly ate most of the cake.  Me? Well I'm drinking the dregs of what was left the punch and digging my finger around the edges of what was probably a very nice cake, at one point.

So what happens now? Well, I'm not even really sure. I suppose the best course of action is for me to just get over myself and not let all lost years drive me insane. It's difficult, because I feel very much a loss about all that. I'm not even sure what to do now. I'm not sure that I should do anything. I'm not sure that I shouldn't just grab my jaunty party hat, wave to the few people who are left, and exit the party with as much dignity as I can.

OR I could stop thinking about time and wasting it and all that bullshit and just enjoy the party. I do like those party hats and oh look, no one ate that 7 layer dip . . . yup, that's the best option.