My sister had kindly reminded me that I have have less than twelve months before I turn twenty eight. What a kind heart she has.
My birthday weekend came and went, and although I was excited for it, Sunday left me feeling a little…off. I have felt a little empty the past few days, without any clear reason why, and the longer this feeling stays the longer I feel depressed. Maybe this is the start of the famed “Seasonal Affective Disorder”, which I refuse to admit affects me because after all, I chose to live here in this climate and hate complaining about something as lame as the time of year.
SAD is a dumb excuse for me. Not for everyone, because everyone is different, but for ME. It’s a beautiful time of year, with holiday parties, cozy sessions on the couch, and gift giving. I’d be crazy to allow myself sadness and discontent, and yet, here I am. Bummed for no good reason, and my stubborn nature isn’t making it any better.
Part of my birthday evening that was so hard: Admitting to myself that getting drunk and stumbling around is the last thing I care about. I don’t think celebrating means drinking my face off, and more often, I feel like most people don’t agree with me. These days, I value good conversation over alcohol, calm settings over loud dance parties. Maybe I am getting more lame with age, but turning twenty seven has made me place more value on what’s really important.
I sound so lame, but let me tell you, I am happy to stand firm and be the lame one. Especially if it means I wake up in the morning without a hangover.
Hmm, I sound like a grouch today.
Maybe some holiday shopping will cheer me up:)