(I'm not even going to apologise for the humongous hiatus, I'm just going to carry on writing like it's still 2015)
So this year I hit 30. Thirty. The time of my life I've been waiting for my whole life. Throughout my childhood and teen years I've always yearned to be 30. I figured I'd have my life sorted by then, would have decided which career to pursue, would have a loving and solid relationship, maybe a mortgage. Maybe even a kid, of the talk of a kid. Most of all I would have sorted myself. No more body issues or yo-yo diets, farewell to the unresolved trauma and bye bye to the not-so-quirky procrastination lifestyle.
So I waited for 30. And herein lies my mistake. I didn't prepare or lay the foundations for this magical life, I just waited for it to happen. And when 30 hit there was no letter delivered by owl with my grown up diploma, or even a set of magical instructions to instant and lasting happiness.
But this is not a sob post.
This is a race against time. I feel I have lost enough time already to squander any more of it on petty reprimands. It's time to learn how to be the person I idolised as a kid. I've cheated myself of time, the least I can do is to actually become that person.
So this is where I start.
Here and now.
To infinity and beyond!
*One day more, Les Miserables
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