Journal Entry:

9/ 11/2016


So. This is the morning of my first full day as a 33 year old.

Yesterday didn’t count because I was born in the afternoon so I didn’t really turn 33 until like 1:30 or something like that.

Meaning, yesterday morning when I woke up 33 years ago I was still nestled inside a warm uterus, sucking the life force from my host, and enjoying the bliss of being without responsibilities, time, labels, coffee addiction, hurt feelings, amazing friends, obnoxious pressures, and pizza.

I was a svelte 9lb 2oz, 2 foot tall fetus in the womb of a woman only twice my weight and 2.5 times my height.

The physics of it is off but it’s ok- it’s almost 100% true.

Props to the petite frame that carried my massive self-whilst only gaining 20 pounds.

I will forever love and hate her for that.

I will only touch on the fact that I thought I’d have massive babies and gain only 20 pounds… When in reality I had mediocre sized children and gained 50 pounds of hopes and dreams in my ass and thighs.

I digress.

The point in all of this is that I feel deeply that this is the right time for me to put into writing the journey/path/whatever that I’ve been on.

I only started to realize that I’ve even been on a journey in the last year or so.

Most people like a specific starting point for a story and that’s what I’m giving anyone who reads this one day.

33 will be where I invite them to come along.

I wasn’t ready for company until recently and decided this birthday would be when I finally take the plunge and journal the experience, and maybe even, one day, have someone who reads it come on this journey with me.

I wish I could say that the path I’ve been on the last couple years had been this amazing walk of enlightenment and health.

On the complete contrary, it’s been marked by steep climbs, major falls, and 20lbs of lard building up in my gut.


Entry end

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