It’s my birthday. I’m 36. I’m not going to write about the past. I’m not going to write about the future. I’m not going to write about the super spontaneous thing I did on Sunday. (Wouldn’t you like to know…heh heh.) I won’t write about all the cookies I’ve eaten lately (hint: it’s a lot) or how I’ve decided to eat my favorite cereal for breakfast today. And I’m not going to write about the things for which I’m grateful–you guys already know more or less.
It’s my birthday. So I can write what I want to.
Here’s the thing. This is my now. Here’s what’s what. I’m 36. That’s pretty close to 40. I’m single, I have zero kids, and I’m enjoying the perks that come with it. Sleeping diagonally in bed, anyone? At the same time, I’m also dealing with the fact that I truly am the lone ranger in said bed; I’m working on that.
I’m healthy, I run, I Crossfit, I ride my bike. Being active is my jam. By the way, I’m more than halfway done with this 30 day running challenge I committed to. Day 18. Thank God.
I still don’t have any furniture after donating it all to the Salvation Army. Picture this: Me, sitting on a zebra print bean bag chair that rests in the middle of my living room. While lounging on this snazzy chair, I’m staring at a blank TV screen because I don’t really know how to use the Amazon Fire Stick.
These days, I’m juggling a divorce lawyer, closing lawyer, co-op board, mortgage company, flooring company, electrician, financial advisor, and an interior designer. My head hurts just typing all that. And yes, I’m still asking each one of them the most absurd questions.
My tailbone is still broken after jumping off a cliff in Croatia one year ago. So I’ve been encouraged to sit on a seat cushion called the Kabooti. You heard that right. K A B O O T I. I made sure I got the camouflage style so I could get excited about the thing. If I’m honest, the camo actually does makes me happy.
I have two cats who adore me, yet I can’t seem to figure out why since I’m never, ever home. I also have no idea how old they are because I’m terrible with dates (and time). On top of that, being single with two cats is not the way I saw things going for myself. Does ANYONE want a cat (or two)? They’re *so* nice.
And, as most of you know, my favorite show is Dateline. Yes, the show that airs on Friday night at 9PM CST, whilst everyone is out to dinner, and that uses the tagline, “Don’t watch alone.” Ugh. I always watch it alone.
I’m 36–not 26, like I may lead you to believe at times–and I know that all this stuff…all those things…they pass, they change, they’re here to guide me. Nothing stays the same; I’m in a season and it’s all for a reason. I know that all these experiences–whacky, quirky, spontaneous, sad, exhausting, rewarding, hard, tough–are dropping me off at my next stop. I know to trust this path because it’s exactly where I need to go. I know all this because I’ve lived it and I’ve seen it–time and time again.
I’m 36. Will I be wiser? Sure. Will I find love? No doubt. Will I feel pain? Yep. Will I ever be perfect? F*ck no. Will I have a life that is easy? No way. Not ever. Will I keep saying yes? Heck yeah. Life is just better with “yes.”
I’m 36. It’s a time to step into my greatness. A time to carry on that lust for life. A time of fearlessness. It’s a time of beautiful uncertainty. And you know what? I’m going to embrace the shit out of all of it. Yesssss.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have a birthday wish to make… xofi