It’s the Monday after a big holiday, and I’m definitely feeling the repercussions of all of my bad decisions. It was probably the most productive holiday I’ve ever experienced. While we didn’t have time to get the table done, we managed to throw up all our winter decor, and completely rearrange the living room upstairs. What was once a weird room with hardly any furniture, has become a cozy sitting area equipped with a TV and coffee table. And enough seating for more than just a couple people. We are finally “adults!”
I will be turning 29 next week, and it’s weird to think of how long it can take to set up a house. We’re really good at all the other “adult” things – we always pay our bills on time, there’s always food around (and it’s never ramen), we maintain our truck, and we maintain the house really well (sidewalks are always shoveled, and the filters cleaned regularly). All that stuff on its own is a lot of work. It’s also generally financially consuming. So it takes a while to gather the “homey” things. It takes awhile to even get around to thinking about that stuff.
I’m not complaining though. I’m pretty much happy wherever I live as long as I have my family and friends around. I’m like the dogs that way. Plus, there needs to be food.
Thanksgiving this year was fun, though I have to admit, for the first hour of the day, I had a lot of anxiety because I was just sitting on the couch watching the parade. I was worried that I was forgetting something, or that I needed to do something. Nope. I got to sit and relax. I drank tea. I ate my yummy breakfast. We did our meal at lunch, and we ate in our PJ’s. The cleanup was easy. We took the dogs for a walk. We talked. It was nice. When we went to Zach’s parents’ place for dessert, we came with an arsenal of treats, because I actually had time to bake. And we had fun, leaving at a reasonable hour only because Zach was falling asleep from working the night before.
I expect Christmas will be similar, because of our on-going effort to try and make holidays special and nice. We’ve even made sure to see our friends more, because it’s always something we regret every year.
But I will go into holiday stuff later. Right now, I’d like to mention an article I read about turning an age that ends in a “-9” and how I’m more likely to kill myself or run marathons (probably not both though). I can’t find the article, but, I would like to say, while I always struggle with having bouts of depression, they generally never have anything to do with my age. I did, however, freak out when I turned 22, for some reason I can’t figure out. For another unexplained reason, I’ve thought I was 29 all this year, so perhaps that’s why I haven’t freaked out yet. All you assholes that write about being millionaires before you’re 30 have never broken me [insert evil laugh].
Seriously though, I’ve always felt, even at a young age, that I would hit my prime in my 30’s. I think I’ve always known what I was up against, and to be one of those lucky success stories, there is a perfect storm. My 20’s were designed for all my terrible decisions (including those wonderful “terrible” ones), getting chunky, accepting myself, and deciding what I want to do with my life. I honestly don’t feel like I’ve wasted any of my time (except for maybe a few Netflix marathons, and anytime I play Skyrim longer than 4 hours…). Don’t get me wrong, I totally admire all those successful youths. But I mainly admire that they’re successful, and that they’re doing what they love. Age has very little to do with it. I have no shame in looking up to someone that’s like, 10 years younger than me. And if someone is shaming you for your age (or if you’re shaming yourself), give them the finger, because age really is just an age. It means whatever you want it to mean. I know we like to celebrate the young, but in reality all of us are the future. It’s not just in the children.
I am deeply sorry for that whole “children are our future” thing.
And for the record: I will NOT be running any marathons anytime soon. This is something I plan to do in my 40’s. Perhaps when I’m 49? Now, 5Ks – those I can handle.
Until next time, enjoy this picture of Layla: