Today I am 23. I receive socks, homemade granola, lip balm, a tiny glass meant for single-serving wine nights and am genuinely pleased. Throw in a miniature pin and some itty bitty liquor nips and I am completely over the moon- boy do my people know me well. It’s the first birthday where I’m even slightly hesitant to answer how old am I noooowwww and that, my friends, does not bode well for 30.
However unsavory the idea of celebrating the 23rd reunion of my birth may be, this day itself has been absolutely amazing so far. I spent the entire morning surrounded by my favorite people, we worked on Coma all day, and the sweet barista at Seven Stars even bumped up my small chai to a medium, adding a special birthday message to my cup, to boot. There were chocolate dipped coconut macaroons and a strawberry-coated cake in my honor. How special do I feel? Very. Terrified of how quickly the years seem to pass as I rack up yet another into my collection of 20’s, but special, yes very.
Cheers to facing fears and 23 years! Have a piece of cake for me tonight.