I suppose this is what getting older really means. My birthday (today) is nothing exceptional – I’m working my PT job later today, I’m writing at a coffee shop right now, I fed and played with my birds this morning, and I have no plans in the evening. The weather is highly grey and unimpressive, threatening rain as I sit here. It’s just another day.
31 is just another year. And that’s okay! I’ve had some amazing birthday parties in my day (many of them silly and costume-themed because Halloween is so close) and don’t need another. I’ll getting a nice dinner with a few other friends with October birthdays this weekend and I’ll spend all day and Halloween night giving out candy to the neighborhood kids.
This might be considered growing up and settling down. As half of a married couple who cannot/will not be having or adopting children and with no plans to buy a house anytime soon, I’m not exactly not he traditional American course for success. I work three part time jobs, and make little money at any of them, all while trying to balance a chronic illness that makes daily life hard.
I’m getting older and the American Dream isn’t getting any closer to me, nor am I dragging myself closer to it. And maybe it isn’t what I want. I’ve never been too interested in the 2.5 kids and a dog and a backyard and a two car garage. That’s a fine and good dream to have; it just isn’t mine.