When I was younger than 8, I always dreamed of the day I would be 8. Eight seemed to be a good age. It probably was.
When I was younger than 27, I always felt like 27 was the age where one "arrived." Or, at least the age where I imagined that I would have "arrived."
Welp. I have 365 more days to arrive at something. (I've already made new year's resolutions and an independence day resolution this year..."the year of arrival" resolutions would just seem obnoxious, so I will just leave it as a vague "something" to arrive at for now).
I'm sure in 19 more years I will think that 27 is as young as 8 seems now.
Posts
1 comment:
Something to think about:
On your first birthday, you have completed one year. So I have actually just completed my 27th year, not started it. So much for arriving!
Post a Comment