Happy birthday to me! Much enjoyed dinner and cake with my dear friend Reecie and her seven year old daughter.
In a huge display of ego, I traditionally have written a blog post on or around my birthday discussing the year that was and the coming year. My old blog is no longer around, but I do have the posts archived for my own reference (there is nothing – NOTHING – wrong with plagiarizing yourself), so I took a look to see what I wrote last year. Can’t say I was surprised to discover I hadn’t written about my twenty-ninth year. It was, in all the big ways, a pile of frelling dren. And around my thirtieth birthday, I was preparing to make huge life changes I was unwilling to discus with the world at large. Fully aware I could have fallen on my face, I followed my gut and prayed like crazy.
A year later, I’m thinking I should have skipped my twenties. Gone straight from nineteen to thirty. Of course, I think enough about alternate timelines and the butterfly effect to understand the importance of the intervening years.
So how did I spend the last year?
I moved twice. Once across the country and once within the same apartment building.
I traded one full time job for two part time jobs. I don’t talk about either on the internet.
I started a new relationship. I got divorced. The order of those sentences is accurate, but the details cannot be explained in two lines. Somethings are best left unblogged.
I went on vacation and took overnight trips more times than I’ve have in the rest of my adult life.
I discovered I’m more a social creature than I believed myself to be. My friends and family, local and faraway, are the amazing. I feel like I fit in.
Life is good, busy and happy.
Times flies when you’re having fun. I had no idea how true the old chestnut can be. I suspect before long I’ll be back here writing my official thirty-second birthday post. Maybe I’ll even write a few posts in between.