Today is my 26th birthday – which is a perfect excuse to eat cake for breakfast and get rum-drunk on a Wednesday.
Outwardly I’ve been very blase about turning 26; “oh it’s a non-birthday”, “I’m the wrong side of 25 now” – you know the likes. But, if I’m quite honest, I am secretly celebrating this one. Not only because you only get a certain amount of birthdays in your life – and life is unpredictable so you should take every opportunity to eat cake and be happy – but because I’ve got a good feeling about 26.
25 was a weird year for me. It had it’s ups… but it had a whole lot of downs too – which, as I talked about here, was something I could easily have prevented by not being such a whiny little bitch.
25 seemed to pop up in the middle of breakfast one morning just to give me a message that said: “Hey, you’re going to get old one day and die. You’re alright for now, but it’s going to happen. You’re officially on notice. You won’t be young forever. Tick tock.” And then 25 marched out the door like a self-righteous dick, unconcerned that it’d just changed my entire perspective on life.
25 threw me and it’s taken the best part of 12 months to start feeling myself again. And – as with most things – I can look back at the last year and wonder what the hell I was worrying about. Actually, in a way, I’m glad 25 was a strange year – it taught me a lot about myself and it helped me to realised that there’s no point in worrying about the future, but instead just do the best with what’s in front of you at the time.
So here’s to being the wrong side of 25. And for anyone out there who might be treading the wobbly knife edge that’s your quarter life crisis, stop giving yourself such a hard time. Everything’s going to be fine, just buckle up and enjoy the ride!
Until next time… x