Yesterday was my 32nd birthday.
30-freaking-2?! How did that happen?
When I began blogging three years ago, I was so scared to turn 30, I wanted to do new things everyday in a desperate attempt to hold on to every last day of my twenties.
Now that my 30th and 31st years have quickly come and gone, I would've thought that each birthday would send me into complete freakout mode.
I don't know if it's maturity (most likely not, this is me we're talking about), accepting the inevitable (getting older sucks, but it happens, so deal with it), or just inner peace that comes from considering the alternative (if I wasn't getting older, I'd be dead), but I've never felt more at ease about celebrating another birthday.
I woke up to text messages and voice mail messages and Facebook posts that made me feel loved and cared for - the way everyone should and hopefully does feel on their big day.
For the most part, though, yesterday was just another day.
There were cards and gifts; a lunch date and a dinner date. There was even wine on a school night. Yahoo!
But there was also a morning yoga class, a long overdue trip to the nail salon, and a normal Thursday at the office.
Just another day - happy, healthy and 32.
Happy birthday to me. Happy Birthday to my little project. Happy Weekend to all of you.
Thank you for the birthday wishes.