You know what makes life truly amazing? Convincing yourself that you’re a year older than you actually are, and then remembering a week before your birthday that you are one year younger than you thought. I don’t know how I managed to a) forget my age, and b) add a whole year onto my life, but I am so glad I did. Now, instead of being mildly alarmed about being 34, I am proud to say I’m 33. I mean, apparently I may have early onset dementia, but I’m young again! Weeeeee!
33 32 was a good year. I don’t remember a whole lot about it. I did some stuff. I ate a bunch of delicious food. I moved across the province. I don’t know. It was a thing that happened and now it’s over.
Being that accidentally adding a year onto my life worked out so well for me, I’m going to convince myself that I’m dying this year. That ought to make for an interesting post on my next birthday.