Today I turn twenty-seven and this might be the first year getting older has become a crisis.
Twenty-seven was the perfect age to me when I was a child. Not too young, not too old. Responsible and reasonably accomplished. Do I feel responsible and reasonably accomplished? Sure. Mature? Well...
Twenty-seven was the age I chose to freeze my very young mother in time at. I felt the "twenty-nine forever" thing was so cliche, and wanted her to have something all her own. Now I'm the same age as my mother. How does that happen?
This is the text I received from her the other day; "You'll be 27 on Saturday. Can I just say holy sh--". Yeah, that's what I was thinking. And if you knew my mom, you'd know how hilariously out of character that comment is for her.
But given I have no control over time, here's to twenty-seven being a great year, with lots of new and exciting adventures to come. I hope you all take a moment this weekend to enjoy a cupcake, or an icy margarita for me. Or heck, how about both! You deserve it!
Here's to twenty-seven being my best & brightest year yet.