...I did not believe that I would actually turn 35. I wasn't sick. I wasn't going to commit suicide. I wasn't trying to prove my birth certificate incorrect because my parents lied about my age. I wasn't a character is a cheesy movie who just woke up in a new time. I simply did not believe that I was actually turning 35 years old.
I was 23, like, you know, about 4 months ago.
I'm not kidding. It was 10pm and my roommates and I were in our apartment. We had just finished a Sex and The City marathon and we were getting ready to go to the bar. The plan: get drunk, flirt with some boys, and stumble home in time to get ready for work (tomorrow, of course).
So how was it possible that all of a sudden I was turning 35? And if I was, in fact, turning 35, had I accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish? Was the 35 year old me the person the 23 year old me wanted to become? I can't begin to explain the panic I felt when considering these questions, or the panic that came over me when I realized the answers to these questions.
Had I accomplished everything I wanted to accomplish - not even close.
Had I become the person I thought I would be at 35 - hell no.
On the day I turned 35 I promised myself that I would make this "the best year ever." I vowed to get over my fears, work on my goals, and most importantly, find a way to become the person I want to be. I'm not talking about the person the 23 year old me wanted to become, but the person the 35 year old me wants to become. And thus this blog was created.
I don't anticipate anyone will read my blog. I don't assume blogging will make me famous. I don't think maintaining a blog will help me deal with all of my issues. But I do think it could be interesting.
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