The Very Last Week of my 20s.

A week from today, I will be 30, and I'm sorta petrified.

I know better than to let the "norms" get to me, but lately, they've started creeping in.  Aren't I supposed to have gotten married by now?  Had a kid?  Bought a house?  Saved some money?  Maybe that last one would have been possible had I not decided to move to the second most expensive city in the country.


The scariest part is that the other day, I remembered a conversation I had with a co-worker at Balboa several years ago, and it felt like yesterday.  We were talking in my office, and I said, "Sometimes I just feel like I want to up and move to Argentina or something!"  He laughed and said, "How old are you?"  I said, "25."  And he said, "Yeah.  You're so young.  That's why you feel that way."

1. OMG how was I just 25 what feels like yesterday?  How on earth have 5 years passed by in the blink of an eye?
2. I still feel that way, sucka.

Here's how I've spent my summer, for the most part:


With some travel, visitors, good exercise, lots of time with Milo and Jude, and puzzling out a relationship thrown in.  Oh, and wasting a decent amount of time playing Tiny Tower.


I'm not a "bucket list" kind of person in the least.  I kinda feel like all of life is an adventure, and I have continuous goals/dreams/etc. that will span out my whole life . . . and they can't be diminished to a checklist of things I want to have accomplished by a certain age.  And yet, somehow, this coming week is shouldering a lot of pressure!  Last week of my 20's!  Anyone want to go to Vegas?