This applies to no one but me, but my birthday was a little over a week ago. I’d like to think it’s a new year. I accomplished some stuff. I didn’t accomplish other stuff.
I went on a trip to Hawaii. INCREDIBLE food, people, scenery, FOOD. Went with a lifelong friend from college. Packed for eight days in a single backpack! Personal growth.
I also went on a trip to New Orleans. I learned to make pie from Joy the Baker. I gained confidence to hand-make the crust. I had good and hard conversations with my best friend from middle/high school. I ate beignets. I re-learned a hard lesson about being over 30 and wearing the wrong shoes to walk around in.
I developed a new collection of cookbooks. Who knows why? I barely cook. But, oh— I dream.
I started a new church group. We’re going through a 3 workbook series talking about God and our lives and laughing and talking serious and honestly, drinking a lot of beer. Amen.
I went through a rough slump. And I do mean rough. I began clawing my way back out around January. Hawaii and the sunshine helped. Friends helped. Netflix helped. Honestly.
I quit my office job to do massage full time. This was a good move.
I applied for Grad School. Recently. Like… a week ago. I’m anxious, to be honest.
I’ve heard the message over and over about connecting with your body. I’m learning. I try to stretch more often. I’ve signed myself and my sister up for 3 5ks this summer. I haven’t started training.
I’ve eaten an awful lot of cake. And loved every piece.
I got a roommate! I don’t live alone for the first time in SEVEN years.
I have doubted myself. And believed in myself. I’ve found strength in the music of Lizzo. She’s teaching me how to be a bad bitch. I need the lessons. I will learn.