My birthday was a few months ago. I meant to blog about it. I also meant to go to the bank before it closed today but I didn’t make it. Why oh why does the bank close at 4:00pm? Why wouldn’t they have odd hours so that people who work during the day can go? Not that I went to work today or anything. Point still stands.
Anyhoo, I meant to share a few things 27 mean to me. Better late than never, right? At least I’m not 28 yet.
27 means I can make some decisions my parents don’t agree with without feeling like I’ve disappointed them. You remember seeing your dad’s face when he asked you about the boy he heard about you kissing in the arcade? No? Just me? Well, I’m sure you’ve had a similar moment with your parent/guardian and all you want to do is deny it and wipe the disappointment and embarrassment off his/her face. Welp, all that is over my friends. Of course there are still a few things I’ll spare my parents from, but I make my own decisions. I live with them. And though I do consider other people in my decision making, it’s ultimately all on me.
27 means that I become fully responsible for the projects I take on at work. My boss pulled me into the conference room and set out a list of projects he wanted me to work on throughout the next few months. In my head I’m like, who me? By myself? You must think you pay me to do these thing? Wait, you do pay me don’t you? Ok and so then I had to get my behind up and make some things happen. So of course I started with Google (you can ask Google how to do almost anything), gave myself a pep talk, and did what I’m there to do. It’s all on me. I got it.
27 means that I may NOT eat birthday cake for breakfast without then jogging 2 miles to make it all go away. What happened to my metabolism?!!! Do you know how much work it takes for me to just maintain? I go to the gym several times a week, I think long and hard about what (not) to eat, and I stay the exact same size. We’re not talking about losing weight or getting tight or any sort of changes. We’re talking about staying the exact same (slightly plump) size. Lawd!
27 means I could have a baby by myself. I’m not saying I want to. I’m not saying it would be a good thing. But I’m pretty sure I could handle it. Isn’t that scary? Whew! Two years ago, I would’ve:
a. fell out in the floor
b. had a seizure
c. laid there until I caught my breath
d. got up
e. found a track and ran a lap around it
f. took a shower
g. called my momma
h. cried hysterically while trying to explain how it happened without most of the actual details
i. called the baby’s dad and cussed him out
j. hung up
k. called him back and apologized
l. cried for 9 months
m. had a baby
Now I would probably skip a, b, c, d, e, h, I, j, and l. I may do h actually. Not sure. But I’d be cool.
I write about pregnancy one time and I get 5 phone calls asking if I’m pregnant. I’m not. Internal clock is doing its thing so I think about it a lot. That’s all folks.
27 means I’m 3 years away from 30. The big 3-0. I’m not sure what to think of this yet but I know it’s a big deal. I won’t be one of those people who shrugs it off like it’s nothing. I’ll post Facebook updates with a month long countdown to my birthday. I’ll probably have a party or take a big trip. I’ll be as annoying as possible about it. Or maybe I’ll grow up by then and won’t be. Idk. I’ll write what 30 means when I get there. Lord willing.