Broken glass sends shivers down my bottle

UPDATE: I post-dated this, so it will loom over my head like the grim reaper's scythe, until the tragic event occurs.

Since it's getting closer, I thought I would grab one of these things again.



Like a bad horror-movie bad-guy, my twenty-fifth birthday keeps sneaking up on me. I'm going to be a quarter of a century, and it kind of scares me. I never had problems with my birthday until the last one, the first time I had to tell someone I was 24, I nearly choked. At least I won't be in ResLife training this year.

So twenty-five isn't turning out that bad. The circles under my eyes didn't look any worse this morning. I still get the run around by the college.

True, I wouldn't let Bennigan's sing to me because they yell out your age, but I'll get over it.

I've realized that twenty-five isn't that big of a deal, it's just being surrounded by the 18-22 set that makes my age seem so extreme. I'm a twenty-five year old undergrad, who cares? I'm also a grad student, and a whole lot more.

I'm me, and I'm really okay with that. Now, more than ever, I'm okay with that. It's a good thing.