Resolved

I don't make New Years resolutions. I resolve not too. As I celebrated last night with friends, I realized, as I approach the age of thirty-three that this is it. The thirties are definitely more fun than the twenties. But forty? Is is the new thirty? And then fifty? And whatever else comes after. Or came before. I just was reminded, as I stood alone at midnight, like every other midnight, that I am an adult. I'm not a young adult. I'm not middle-aged. But I am an adult. In this moment. And it felt like an outer-body experience. Twenty years ago I was nearly thirteen. Fifteen years ago I graduated from high school. More patient. More forgiving. More self aware. Still trying to love myself enough so that maybe one day someone else might love me back. We don't change that much. How many times have I said that? As I sat for a pedicure, the dirt being scrubbed from underneath my toes. The dead skin washed away. But I'm still here. Life hasn't washed me away. I'm having fun.