Take a look at this crooked-banged little person, cup in hand...
The cup was half full. She had nothing more on her mind then 'where was Barbie's other heel?', and 'what channel was CareBears on?' Skinny, worry free and full of energy, this little child was ready to take on the world. She didn't know about grey hairs, what they were or how she'd have to dye them every 4-6wks by the time she was in her 20's. Big dreams, big plans and in love with heart-covered chiffon sleeves (Project Runway, eat your heart out). She wanted to be a doctor, an artist, a tugboat captain, a professional fisherman, a wife and a mommy, all by the time she was 30.
Flash forward to today, many full cups (of wine) later, and you have me - nearing 30. This chick hasn't done anything that little girl wanted to do, but I can say that it wasn't for lack of trying. The whole doctor thing was ambitious, especially since I'm the last person you'd want around if you had an accident (panic attack! panic attack!). At 20, I thought I had it all in the bag. Well, I must have lost that bag because I had another one full at age 23. Wouldn't you know it? I misplaced that one too. At 25, I was 100% positive that after losing 2 bags, I was sure as hell not going to lose the next one - the clocks were ticking, biological AND the one on the wall.
Now I'm 27, looking back on all the things that I wanted/had/lost/needed to do by 30 and thinking - What was the rush? I can still have all those things that little girl wanted and I also have many (many) more stylish bags to fill!
If turning 28 means I still have everything in life to look forward too, then I'd like to turn 28 every year...
...can someone arrange that, please?