Dear 43 Things Users,

10 years after introducing 43 Things to the world, we have decided we have met our last goal: completing the incredible experience that has been 43 Things. Please join us in giving one last cheer to all the folks who have shared their goals with the world, as well as all the people who have worked at The Robot Co-op to build this incredible website. We won a Webby Award, published a book, and brought happiness to a lot of people.

Starting today, 43 Things users can export their goals and entries from the site. Starting August 15, we will make the site “read only”. 43 Things users will still be able to view the site and export their content, but we won’t be taking any new content from users. We hope to leave the site up for folks to see and download their content until the end of the year. Ending on New Year’s Eve takes us full circle.

It has been a long ride (one of our original goals was to "build a company that lasts at least 2 years” - we beat that one!) While we wish the site could live on, it has suffered from a number of challenges - changes in how people use the site, the advertising industry, and how search engines view the site. We wish the outcome was different – but we’ve always been realistic about when our goals are met and when they aren't.

As of today, you will be able to download your goals and entries. See more about that on the FAQ page. Thanks for 10 great years of goal-setting and achieving.

- The Robots.

Export My Content

ladyleatherneck1 I can't believe I work in this cesspool of emotional entropy.

Stop Being Miserable
a shadow of another life

I can’t stop feeling like this. I feel like I deserve everything bad that happens in my life, but for the life of me, I can’t think of what I did to deserve it. One bad thing after another, I even started out being the result of my mentally-handicapped mother’s rape, so I guess I was doomed from the start. After what seemed like a lifetime of beatings, being homeless, and stealing just to survive, my mother left me alone with her addict boyfriend when I was 12, with nothing but a note saying she went to Sacramento, and was never coming back. After a few more years of sleeping on couches, being raped, 2 suicide attempts, and depending on the kindness of others just to live, I ran away with a 24 year old man when I was 15. I had never known anyone else who could take care of me like he could, and didn’t care that he was controlling and abusive, and kept me away from everyone I knew, because I had never known love, and he talked about it all the time, and was sure this was it. I married him when I was 18 in a court house, wearing blue jeans. He got fired from his job well before that, and for 2 years, I worked rediculous hours and odd jobs to take care of us before I was even a legal adult. I dropped out of night school and paid for him to go, and the bills just kept stacking up against us. Finally, after over a year where I was working, I made friends with a co-worker, and addict or not, she could see how disfunctional my life was and encouraged me to leave. It took me 2 years to gather enough money and courage to do it. I moved 3 states away, to a place I had only ever been once, and rented a room for 200 dollars a month on an old farm. A week later I woke up drunk for the first time, and covered in vomit with my best friend’s boyfriend. I had never felt so pathetic. I had come to discover myself, and had only found that I was disgusted. I tried to pick up the peices, and now friendless in a strange place, I found a minimum wage job that barely scheduled me, slept in the car so I wouldn’t have to pay for gas, and living off of the free coffee in the break room, until Jodi came along and offered me a job in his tattoo shop. It seemed like a great idea… but i ended up making less than i was before, and was sleeping with Jodi, a man my father’s age in the back of the shop while his 21 yr. old wife was away, hoping that somehow it would make him want to take care of me. I slept with 7 men in the year that I lived there (including a one-night stand) I thought I was being free, and sexually liberated, and had this great sense of pride about it, about making the CHOICE where there was none before. Now I feel only regret. It was just SO NICE to feel needed, appreciated, desireable… fuck… to feel anything at all… I ended up drinking a lot. Being a party-girl you have an illusion of grandeur, that everyone knows you and loves you, and that you have friends at every party and every bar. It turns out I only had a lot of acquaintences, and no real friends. I soon realized what a failure I had become after a few fucked up nights that ended in jail. I woke up and wondered what the fuck had happened to me, and realized that all I wanted was to go back to my pathetic, controlled, barbed-wire life and my abusive husband. Because at least it was safe, and familiar, and in that same thought, I had never felt so… forgotten. forsaken. invisible. Like I was never meant for this world, and that it just threw people like me away. I HAD HAD ENOUGH. I fucking CRAWLED out of it, fighting tooth and nail the entire way, and burned every bridge in that life. A month later I was in boot camp. 6 months after that I was back in California, in an intelligence school for the best and brightest in the Marine Corps, on my way to something better. It’s been one year. And now, I’ve had my identity stolen, and with it, my credit has DIED, my clearance (read:JOB) is in jeopardy, I need a hip surgery that will probably get me kicked out of the Corps, am in another abusive relationship, have no family and no friends left to take my calls, and for the first time in my life, I’M TERRIFIED. I’ve been through some terrible shit, seen things that no person was meant to see, and managed to perservere, and always looked for the silver lining… This is the first time, EVER, that I have been SCARED. I worked SO HARD to make something of myself, to use the mind I was blessed with. And now, just the thought of losing it IS CRIPPLING, and it’s just a matter of days before I find out if they do. I have nowhere to go. No money saved. I don’t know anyone… I don’t even have a home. I feel like I’m drowning-and everyone is just watching me, and just wondering how I made it THIS far.


things can only get better


Snowbug is trying to win the lottery so she CAN build a moat


I’m surprised you even were able to get a clearance.

Wondering how it’ll all turn out.

WAIT! How can you not have a home? Don’t you live in the barracks? The Marine Corps doesn’t let people live on the street. That much I DO know.


I want to:
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