But yay! happy birthday to me!!! I’m officially 25. None the wiser (except maybe a lesson or two about men and tennis). A few extra scars, including the one on my knee, that I banged up on new year’s day and had to go to the fire station for bandages (they don’t carry those; in their carry-on size first aid kit, they have no bandages).
This past year, I finally feel like I’m getting a grasp on how to take care of myself. I don’t mean paying the bills on time or remembering to take out the garbage. I just mean all the little things that seem to pop up in life that no one seems to tell you about until you graduated college, and you’re like FUCK! The shiny car they promised you after all this studying is really a vespa, and you just bought a full sized mattress from IKEA. How the hell am I supposed to fit it… Okay, bad analogy. Blame it on the NyQuil. (Which I don’t know how to spell, but I can’t go check the label because *confession* I really bought the cheap CVS alternative.)
Okay, so maybe a little bit wiser. But our 20s aren’t necessarily about gaining tons of brains and skills, like those of our teen years. This year, I’m more okay with myself and my limitations. I’m no longer the smartest person in class, and I’m okay with that (darn you, Patrick!). I can’t drive through a wall unscathed. Eight year old are capable of stealing my iPhone. And I’m okay with that.
Last week was one of the shiteous weeks of my life. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. But I survived (thanks mostly to my friends are holding me together and picking up the pieces). And whether I bomb a test or an ex enjoys rubbing salt in my wounds, I can deal with it and move on.
So bring it on, world! I’m ready for the 25th year. Show me what you got. (But please try to be nice. I seriously am sick and it’s not nice hit people when they’re down… or to hit girls…)
P.S. BIG ups to Kun, Asher and Stacey. Without you guys, I would not have survived last week.