I turn 32 years old today, which is how old my mother was when she had me.
Turning 31 was a little scary, because it was the first year of just settling in to the *thirties.*
So I’ve settled now. A bunch of days passed. I turned 32.
I would like 32 to be the year that I make some good headway at being a grown-up.
It’s time to find a new job. One that I love. One that inspires me to work hard again.
I’d like to get a handle on my finances. I won’t be able to clear it up in a year. But I would like to be able to say in a year’s time that I’m in a better place that I’m in today. Laughable as it may be, I’d like to have a thousand dollars in my special savings account nicknamed “house savings – do NOT withdraw!”
I hope to be a good, reliable partner. I have such welling for the David. I need to learn to have patience and care for this person who can not read my mind and isn’t here just to agree with me.
I could keep listing the things that I want to do, want to improve upon. But I also don’t want to set up the expectation that is the year of self help. Because I rather like the self I have.
thirty second birthday
margaret edith 