And so it is. Somehow, I am officially 32 years old. Somehow, John and I have been together for 10 years. Somehow, that carefree "I have my entire life ahead of me" spirit sounds more like "I still don't know what I want to do and time is just going faster!" Seems all very dramatic, I realize. But it's true. I've developed some sort of anxiety about how quickly time passes. It has absolutely nothing to do with getting older, though. Instead, I've developed this deep-rooted awareness of how precious and irreplaceable time is that makes me questions whether or not I'm truly getting the most out of every single moment. Luckily, I live my life pretty full speed ahead, taking every opportunity the comes along, because it's just not worth waiting. But then, when I stop to think about the big things in life, I feel completely unprepared. Ah, birthday crisis.
Despite my preparation or lack thereof, another year has come and gone. Looking back, it was pretty fabulous way to leave 31 behind. Unfortunately, this cold is still lingering. On Saturday, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for how quickly I nipped it. So, I decided to do everything. You know, run 10 miles, frolic through brush and weeds learning how to play disc golf, accompany the guys to the gym, go to work for a few hours and then stay up way too late having deep soul-searching conversations (see above) with a close friend. And then Sunday came ... and thus, the return of the snots. Awesome.
So 32, huh? Yikes.
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