Forever solidifying my 'single' status with one blog post.

My mom mentioned somewhere the other day that she's never seen me happier. I could easily agree with that. I do agree with that. She told me she lives vicariously through me. Her daughter, 30-years-old, living on her own, taking trips, having adventures, answering to no one, easily navigating the mean streets of Madison, Wis... OK, to be fair, she's been sheltered. Married young, started a family young, now lives vicariously through the adventures of her cat lady youngest child. It's understandable.

And while I do agree with her -- I'm loving my life -- I still can't help but worry that I'm falling behind. All around me friends are announcing pregnancies, living through pregnancies, having babies. And I'm about to go full-on girl here but OMG BABIES I WANT ONE. No lie. I'm not gonna pretend all, "Oh, well, you know. If it happens."


No, I want a baby. Mine. My own baby.

Not, like, tomorrow, but perhaps before my body's like "Girlfriend, no."

I totally do the math in my head. I'm 30 now. Single. OK, so first I need to meet a guy. You know, we'd have to date and stuff. Date, date, date. Poof! Get engaged. Get married. Not get divorced. Have a baby.

So basically by now I'm 42.

THAT IS ALL SO MUCH WORK. WHAT IF I NEVER GET TO HAVE A BABY, YOU GUYS, OMG. I'm serious. I can't even believe I'm saying these things out loud. I freaking love babies. God, they're adorable. I want to smoosh them. I want to hold them. I would be a good mom. But then it's funny because at the same time I think, Having a baby means real responsibility. Probably marriage. No more adventures. I'd have to share my life.

While I don't mind sharing my life with my own baby, does that mean I'd have to share it with a man, too? I'm so selfish right now. I want everything to myself. Mine! Or maybe if Ryan Braun would call me back we could get this thing started. God.

Point is: Wait, is there a point? I don't know. But can someone just reassure me that I'm safe and I have time? Because in five years, if I'm still in the same place, I will go straight-up Addison Montgomery up in here and start picking sperm out of a catalog of suitable males and do this shit on my own. Watch me.

So until further notice, I shall remain a cat lady. And any man who previously read this blog just packed up ship and ran away screaming because GIRL IS CRAZY.