Another Year Begins

28 Mar

Yesterday was my birthday, I’m 31 years old. For the second time this week I find myself asking, “How did I get here?” In case you missed the first time, click here.

We went to dinner at my parent’s house last night to celebrate and my father asked me how old I felt. Good question. I feel like I should only be about 21, I have no idea where the last decade disappeared to. Physically I feel much older. I’m tired and worn out, I feel more forty-something than thirty-something. OK, you forty-somethingers, don’t be mad, I’m not saying you’re old and tired.

I just don’t know where the time has gone. This weekend I saw a story about Baby Jessica, you remember, the kid who fell in the well. I remember that so vividly and it was something like 20 years ago. I blinked and the time has flown by. What have I done in the last 31 years? Not a whole lot I’m afraid. I feel like there’s so much I’ve wanted to do and haven’t and although I’m only 31 time has run out. I have responsibilities now. I have a husband and kids. Traveling through Europe is out of the question. Even getting away for a weekend (sans children) has proven to be a near impossibility.

Am I going through some kind of crisis? It’s a little early for a mid-life crisis. It’s a little late for a quarter-life crisis. I guess I’ll just chalk it up to the birthday blues. Every year I expect something spectacular and every year it’s just more of the same for me; each day not unlike the one before.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with my life. I love my family. I just feel like I should be doing more, and I’m not sure what that more is, and for some reason it always hits me around my birthday.

Maybe this year will be my year…The Year of Mychal! We’ll see.

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