Today I turn 33 years old. It sounds odd to say that number. I can’t decide if that’s old or not. I guess it’s relative. I remember being in my twenties and thinking that 30 was ancient and not being able to imagine being that “old”. My 30th birthday was not a good one for me, mentally. I don’t know why I had such trouble changing decades but I was a sobbing bucket of mess that day. I ate my weight in chocolate and pondered the meaning of life. It was all very dramatic. And pathetic.
But now I think I’m settling into my 30s and realizing that it’s a good place to be. I’m “settled” into life in great ways. I’ve been married for, let’s see, let me count, nine years and have a house, job, a baby. A lovely life. And not that life is all about “the List” but don’t we all have one, at least in our heads? That list of things we want to accomplish by such and such age, or at least, before we die? I’ve done several things on my list…married the love of my life (isn’t that the cheesiest sappiest cliche ever? but it’s true!), had a beautiful child, own a home, traveled through much of Europe, been published here and there, etc. I have many more things yet to accomplish on my List but I think I’ve done pretty well so far. I am blessed.
This post is going nowhere really. I guess I’m just feeling reflective. All in all, 33 is a good place to be.
Oh, guess what The Accountant gave me? Those PostSecret books I wanted! My advice to all bloggers – sneak in a sentence or two about your Christmas wish list and then ask your significant other if they happened to read such and such post. Works like a charm.