How Did I Get Here?

When I was a kid, I had my entire life mapped out. I was never going to get married because the whole idea of it seemed very plebian to me (I liked the term “lovers” until I started reading romance novels and quickly realized that I would never be able to call a guy my “lover” without giggling and blushing like mad.) I would be living alone, so I could dedicate all of my time to reading, and writing. I was completely convinced that I would be a published author by the time I was 25. And I was never, EVER going to have kids.

Now I’m 26, married and nowhere close to being a published author.

I guess that’s what happens when you meet the love of your life and he actually wants to marry you (and then wants you to take on his name even though you are not his property but you eventually cave because, seriously, changing your name is a very, very big deal to him and you shouldn’t be getting married if you don’t know how to compromise). My husband (D.) and I live in a house that we bought last summer, right before the bottom fell out of the housing market (and we got an FHA-secured fixed rate loan because, apparently, two 25 year-old kids are smarter than most people who thought interest-only, or adjustable-rate loans, were just a fabulous idea). Our house might be small (a little under a 1000 sq. ft.) but the lot is huge (9,000 sq. ft.) and we have more than enough space in our house for my library, and his video game room. When we have kids, they get to live in the garage.

No, we don’t have kids. We are talking about maybe trying for a kid later this year (or next year) but we are just not yet ready to be responsible for the life of a little person.

We both work for the same company–which doesn’t present much of a problem because we rarely see each other during the day. Even though I constantly flunked my math classes, I am now the bookkeeper for the company and thank goddess for Quicken.

I also have a slew of health problems. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease when I was eight years old and will be battling it for my entire life. Which gets tiresome, after a while. At twelve, I was told that I also had arthritis, a common ailment for Crohn’s sufferers. Now my knees swell almost daily and I feel like an old women when I’m sitting at home with ice packs strapped around my knees, talking about how it must be getting ready to rain.

Obviously, there is more to the story of Katie: That Sick Girl and hopefully I’ll get around to adding a section to this blog that details the long, arduous journey from sick-kid to sick (but still alive!) adult.

Contacting me is fairly easy. You could use the form below, or you could just send me an email at: katie@exaggeration.org

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