Mid-June the Birthday countdown begins. Because I LOVE my birthday!
But every year I think back on the year and judge who I am by the year passed. And 24, 25 – not stellar. Sorta stellar but not stellar. Because that’s the way it happens. But 26? I’m not going to look back. No more looking back. Except for this brief sum up, then no more looking back.
24 – Yay! finally in publishing! but referring once again to the influx of baked goods when things start to go bad, my trans fat intake probably rivaled my 4 yrs at college.
25 – Boy and I parted ways and I don’t know how I held it together, but I’m certain it aged me about 7 yrs. But the job, rockin’ it.
26 – Boy and I are better than before and I can talk about the house, the dog, the garden, the lemon tree. (I can talk about it, don’t ask me for a date.) And the job, still rockin’ it.
Did I mention that if I can keep up whatever it is I’m doing for the next 3 weeks, when I turn 26 I’ll still be able to wear the same clothes from when I was 22? And that alone makes 26 just fine by me. Did I mention I plan to partake in a ginormous cupcake to celebrate? Damn skippy I LOVE my birthday.