I turned 29 last week.
And thus began the last year of my 20's. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing, and the fact I will turning 30 next year is already weighing heavily on my mind.
As birthdays go, it was kind of underwhelming. Nothing special happened. That's the way it goes the older you get. But, it may sound selfish, I was kind of peeved that nobody seemed to to care. Most of the well wishes came through Facebook (which I find to be incredibly impersonal) and my dad didn't even call.
It didn't help either that I had to work. At this point in the semester, I just want to be done and try and just get from day to day. The kids were on my nerves and all I wanted to do was take an hour to myself and enjoy it, but when you live an hour away from where you work, and you work with kids, you don't get that.
Next year I'm taking off.
And by the time I got home and made dinner and showered, the day was over. Another one for the history books.
On a more positive note, the fact that the last year of my 20's has begun was a little bit motivating. There is a lot that I would like to accomplish in the next year to make it not seem like I totally wasted the last decade. I want to get back in the groove of producing work, and I want to sew some things for myself. I want to find another job and move and try to make a house a home. I want to travel and enjoy my life.
I feel like those are very lofty goals.
But I am desperately going to try.