Tomorrow I begin the final year of my 20's
I’ve wavered back and forth on how I feel about birthdays.
For the longest time I found them pointless and arbitrary.
If I wanted anything for my birthday it was to relax by myself and watch The Masters.
If I was feeling festive, maybe a Starbucks card.
After having two kids, June 3rd and July 7th mean something different. I kind of get all the fuss now.
But April 10th. The 100th day of the year. The random Tuesday I happened to be born on 28 years and 364 days ago. How do I feel now?
If anything, my birthday has become more of a reflection, a reminder, a benchmark.
A time to look back.
A time to look forward.
A precious point in time nonetheless.
Tomorrow I begin the final leg of my 20’s. I’m sure it won’t feel any different than today. But I’ll make an effort.
After all, how many of these days do we get?