In this most extraordinary of years, I nearly forgot that it is my birthday in two days. I am turning 33, which symbolically doesn’t really mean anything within the social schema of significant birth milestones. It’s just another tick in the box until I hit the big four oh. Not for awhile, thankfully.
Society puts certain demands on you in relations to how old you are, doesn't it? By the time we hit our thirties, we’e suppose to have our careers figured out, with steady amount of money, and the beginnings of family starting. Well, I can honestly say I’ve not achieve any of those things. I’ve only just moved out of my parents’ house this year! Something that, by the socially-accepted standards of American culture, has been overdue for a decade.
I go at my own pace, obviously. And so does my friends: only one couple out of the group is married with kids. The rest are getting there ever so slowly. Not me, of course: I am still on my traveling and spending money on cars phase of life. With 2020 being a sort of lost year due to the global pandemic, there’s much catching up to do once the COVID-19 vaccine is rolled out to the masses. Life seemingly have hit a paused button - while the video is still rolling - and I'm looking forward to resuming my previously scheduled programing.
That will hopefully be what age 33 will be about: a resumption of normalcy. I am as prepared as possible, having finally moved out on my own this year. I feel like I’ve already reached the next stage of life, so therefore 33 will be a time for acclimatizing to this new arrangement and see what other changes it may permeate to. Because as of this writing, we are all still confined to our homes, waiting.
I sincerely thank the higher powers for this gift of another year of life. Let’s get after it and make it count.
Waiting for open.