35 #ThanksButNoThanks

So you wake up one morning and your suddenly in your mid-30's. How does this happen exactly? I mean, I am pretty sure that it was just last week that I was slinging beverages, planning where my night was going to shut down because I was never home before 2a.m. and life was so busy.  I knew that I was inevitably going to grow up or at least succumb to the ways of a grown person: Not blowing all my money on make up and purses, getting out of bed before noon, holding a real job, paying bills, and just ticking off the boxes on the 'grow up, get your stuff together' check list.  I wanted to get married, buy a house with an open floor plan and a huge closet, really put some roots down in my suburbia haven, have a kid {maybe} and lots of dogs. I figured I would live in the same neighborhood as my Bestie, remain in the same town that I really grew up in and just live a normal life. I had plans, goals, and dreams. I was prepared and I was ready. No birthday surprises as I would see each one of them coming and be welcoming of every passing year.

So I woke up Tuesday and here I am, 35 years old.

No roots, no suburban life, no kids. I did get married, and of course I have dogs. I also have never given up on the MAC make up spending and don't even think for a second that I won't buy that expensive purse that I am drooling over in the store window. Unless it is a Fendi bag because I never knew how pricey they were - that post is for another time. I look at my life right now and I think 'wow'. My life was so planned out and here I am living an even better, yet opposite, version of what I had planned. I still have to scratch my head and wonder exactly how 35 happened to me. I don't feel 35, hell I barely feel 25. I almost believe I haven't grown up because I don't really see myself of old, or even older. I never pictured my life at 35 to be taking place in a different country and so far from off of my plan. Actually, I never saw 35 coming. In fact, I think it is pretty rude as to how it just snuck up on me. No call, no text. Just BAM! Like being t-boned by a semi-truck. 35. I am 35, I am half way to 70. Ok, let me stop.

I am currently refusing to think about what the next 10 years will bring because the thought of being 45 makes me feel sick. Literally, my stomach turns into knots and I feel like I cannot breath. 45... 5 years from 50. This is how my mind works, like a damn circus. Loops and surprises and not a lot of rhyme or reason.  It automatically goes into overdrive so I can panic a full 15 years ahead of schedule. Alas, this is my life. This is how 35 snuck up and bit me. I get so focused on planning for future, thinking about how this is going to work, how is this going to impact this or that, I forget that I am living right now. I need to be present in the moment, my right now. This way I will see 40, 45, and that other number coming. And those I will be looking dead in the face because I will be ready.

35, well played. You got me.