Yesterday I started writing a post about the depressed state I have been in lately. I’ll be turning 26 on Tuesday and I usually get this way around my birthday. Last year, after seeing family and friends, eating cake, and getting presents, I cried on the way home. For no apparent reason. Dave kept trying to ask me what was wrong and all I could really say is “I’m 25!” Like that’s the worst thing that’s happened me in my entire life.
So I started writing this long entry yesterday, realized what time it was, and said I would finish writing it after I got off work. But during the 8 hours I spent at my job (which I love, by the way) I decided to scrap it. There’s no reason for me to feel upset about getting a year older. Things are going well. Extremely well. Dave got a job promotion this week. In the current state of the economy, I know things like this are hard to come by, but it happened and he’s never been more excited about anything. And I’m excited for him too. We looked at this amazing, cozy little condo that is about to be bank owned last week. It was such a steal. Dave got approved for a loan and there’s a good chance he might get the condo. The plan was to rent it out for a few years to his best friend who doesn’t really have a permanent address right now.
And then there’s me. The almost 26 year old. According to the scale in Dave’s bathroom, I’ve lost 2lbs. I feel like I’ve lost some inches off my waist as well. I can do an hour of cardio consistently now. I love my job. I got the most adorable, pink, canon point and shoot camera for my birthday from the man that I love with all my heart (He got it in the mail yesterday and was too excited to wait). I’ll be spending this entire weekend at the beach. Above all, no matter what minor catastrophes might happen, I’m going to be glad I’m 26. Because right now life really is great for me.