Two years ago when I hit 36, I wrote how happy I was…
When I think about today’s number my emotions start to run high. I feel aged, excited, sad, hopeful, happy, grateful, curious about the future, nervous about the future and confused about life’s big questions… Yes, a whole tangle of emotions.
So far this year feels like it’s been on fast forward. We are finally staying in HK for awhile – which is good. A bit of time to be lazy, slow down, enjoy the summer and each other’s company.
I would prefer to be 36 again… it was a little further away from my dreaded 40th. Unfortunately, Husband keeps repeating that I should just get on with life instead of getting lost in introspection.
Whenever I think about it, my twenties and thirties seem significant somehow.. forties.. seem to be coming way too soon!
I am happy. Sometimes ridiculously happy, sometimes less happy, but nonetheless happy every day. The idea of getting older is bloody depressing right now. It just feels wrong. I don’t think I’ve aged (let’s not look at my wrinkles in very bright light), I don’t think that I morphed into a middle aged lady in the last couple of years… Is this my middle age already?! Am I seriously half way there? This is just wrong. Lots of profanity comes to mind.
Decided to ignore this silly number and continue with my life’s mission to be happy and to make Husband happy.
There is nothing left to do apart from celebrating life and embracing number 38.