I Followed The Yellow Brick Road

Confession time: I’ve been contemplating starting a blog for years. If I had a dollar for every time the thought crossed my mind, I’d probably be retired already (and certainly not checking my savings tonight!). Life, with its endless demands and distractions, always seemed to offer a perfectly valid excuse for putting it off. But here’s the thing: life isn’t going to magically get simpler. So, it’s now or never. And honestly, who am I to think anyone will actually read this, let alone comment? (If you’ve made it this far, please do prove me wrong!)

Originally, this blog was going to be my personal journal for mental well-being. Then, it morphed into a dedicated countdown to my retirement – just six short years away! Of course, there was the ‘life hacks’ phase (because who doesn’t need more tips on organizing your junk drawers). And we certainly can’t forget the idea of a place for all those stories – funny, bizarre, or inspirational – that were simply too long for Facebook.

Well, guess what? You’re going to be stuck with all of the above. And lucky you, it won’t be in any organized, thematic manner. (Let’s be real, planning that would just delay starting by another few months!)

So, let’s kick things off with how I decided on the title for this little corner of the internet. I’m one of those people who watched The Wizard of Oz more times than I can count. That magical movie, along with The Donna Reed Show, Leave it to Beaver, and those Fun with Dick and Jane books, painted a very specific vision of my adult future. A picture that over-promised and severely under-delivered.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I LOOOOOVE my husband and family. But it wasn’t until I hit my twenties that I realized they were feeding us a whole lot of… well, you know. I genuinely believed that if I just followed all the rules and did everything I was ‘supposed to,’ I’d live happily ever after, just like those fictional characters. Instead, I’m a very complicated, unique, sometimes insecure, perpetually-worrying, anxiety-prone, 68-year-old middle-class woman (at least until I check our retirement savings tonight!). And honestly, I don’t see that changing much.

But perhaps we can make this journey a little easier, and certainly more entertaining, with a few laughs along the way. So, are you in?