Let it forever be known that the night before my 23rd birthday, I ordered a Macbook Pro from my mother’s credit card, had my own credit card defrauded, and watched The Bachelor starring Jesse Palmer with my 4-month-old, incredibly itchy and unbearably cute little pup (although I would have much preferred to cuddle up to this former professional football player lovely, charming man – he’s just my type with the mesmerizing smile and alluring physique. The true bachelor, eh?).
I am surprisingly okay with this, with my impending joblessness (unemployment), and with my upcoming free time during the summer. I am okay with being an overachiever and a little overworked. I am really, really okay with my life. I am happy here, despite wanting so much, because I know how lucky I really am.
I know how to be grateful for things, and I think by 23, that can be considered an achievement, albeit a small one.
What do I think 23 will involve?
Lots of change. I can read all the Thought Catalog articles I want on “being in your 20s”, but I have barely scraped the surface of this decade I’ve been inhabiting for 3 years already. I’ve finished university and pursued job opportunities, sure. I’ve also visited Europe, which, let’s face it, is a “thing you do in your 20′s”. I’ve bought a dog and made peace with my insane family (most of the time anyway). I have learned how to step away from things, although stepping away from 7 seasons of a TV show still proves to be a struggle. But I’ve learned how to manage my money and earn it; I’ve learned how to say no when people are pushing me too far, and I’ve learned to say yes when people are willing to actually come to the party.
I’ve learned a lot of things, but I think I’m still learning to enjoy the moment. To ride the wave and really be amazed in the instant of the fact that I’m gliding on water.
This year will probably involve moving out, being adult-ish, getting a “real job”, and all sorts of boring things like figuring out who I am and what I’m really capable of as a person. I’m excited. It will be a fun challenge. It’ll be so terrifying that I’m sure I’ll come home certain days and just cry into my dog’s stomach, further dirtying her fur with my snot, but I also hope there will be days that I just dance into my favourite pair of underwear and get dressed like the Queen herself is visiting me (although, hey, I don’t really dig monarchies, but I’d make an exception, I guess).
I will try to keep track of everything, although, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I haven’t really figured out (STILL. STILL. My frustration knows no end.) what I want this blog to be. Maybe instead of making it something, I’ll just write and ramble about whatever the hell I want and see what turns out. It works in cooking!
Sometimes.
Let’s hope this is one of those times.