Now this feels strange. As of today, I'm closer to 25 than 24. Damn. I'm old. 25 is, like, when it starts getting scary. Right?
The funny thing is, six months ago today I was wailing because "it's okay not to have a clue in your early twenties, but now I'm in my mid-twenties and I still don't have a clue." What a turbulent six months this has been. But the funny thing is, I still may not have a clue, but I have an idea. I have a job I like that actually pays me, and though I'm still single, I'm not desperate anymore. I feel... secure. How strange. Maybe it's the new makeup or the new clothes, but I'm almost strutting these days. For the first time in a very long time, I like myself, and I like my life.
Now that's a good half-birthday present.