I had previously agreed to help a friend with a sociology-related term paper so my day off still technically involve working and you know, putting on pants. For some reason, I’ve been sleeping in crazy late for the past couple of weeks, and generally ignoring most of my responsibilities.
I ordered some books and a new yoga dvd this morning and the estimated arrival date of my package falls on my birthday. My birthday is sneaking up on me and I’m trying to avoid acknowledging it. It’s not so much that I’m upset about getting older, I just don’t really care to celebrate birthdays in general, any event that loaded with expectations and the potential for disappointment just isn’t something that appeals to me.
I don’t really know what to expect from the next year, but I’ve got a moderately positive outlook on things. I’m definitely of the mindset (finally) that’s done is done, and there’s no sense in dwelling on things you can’t change. Turning 22 just heralded in the worst year of my life, partly due to my own choices and partly due to circumstances beyond my control. 23, was much better by comparison, and 24 will surely exceed all cautious expectations.