I just turned 25. I’m not really sure how I feel about it, but I suppose it doesn’t matter because there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t mind getting older, because there is no part of me that wants to go back to my teenage years, or even early twenties really. I do miss some of the fun I had, and being able to see certain friends more often, but I think I’m more content now with myself than I have ever been. I think I felt better physically yesterday than I have at any of my recent birthdays. And I definitely woke up feeling better than I have in the past few years.
Normally, my birthday is a huge ordeal, by my doing. I love my birthday. It’s the only “holiday” that I actually like, so I like to make a big deal out of it. Usually it involves a celebration with my family at some point, and a big party with my friends, with lots of drinking, laughing, and shenanigans. If my birthday fell on a week day, we still usually went out on the actual day, and then picked a weekend night to celebrate as well. I pretty much had a “birthday week” and I loved it.
This year was a little different. It was also my sort-of last day at my job, so I got to sleep in and just go in for a staff meeting later in the day. I was getting ready when my niece and nephew were dropped off. My niece, who is two, saw my present from my mom and started opening it, so I was beckoned upstairs to open what was left of my gift. She thought it was a toy, but it was a veggie slicer and shredder attachment for my stand mixer, so needless to say, she was a bit disappointed when we told her she couldn’t play with it. I went to work and was surprised with cake, brownies, and balloons – for a combined birthday and farewell celebration. I worked half the day and came home, got a little work out in, and then played with a 2 month old and a 2 year old for the rest of the day. I was a little rebellious and stayed up until about 9:15 before I couldn’t take it anymore and had to go to bed. Woooo 25!
As I woke the following day, I had to laugh to myself a little bit. On the morning after my 25th birthday, I woke up, in my bedroom in my mom’s basement, unemployed. Awesome. To be fair, I left my job by choice, and will start a new one in a few weeks after I move again. And I chose to live with my mom, it’s not out of necessity. So it’s not as depressing as it sounds, but it is still a little funny.
I imagine I will still have a big birthday celebration with friends in a few weeks once I move, so I am looking forward to that. My lifestyle has just changed so much in the past year that my normal celebrations are too draining for me. I’ve gotten out of the groove of staying up late and drinking so much, but I’m okay with that. When my co-workers and I were talking yesterday, it seems that my description of my life matches with the women in their 60s, and although it’s funny, it’s not surprising. I’m perfectly content to spend my nights by myself, hanging out in sweatpants, reading a book.
Just for fun, here’s a photo collection of my last few birthdays: