For longer than I’d care to admit, I’ve felt as though I’m waiting for my life to start. I could blame it on a bad breakup that took much too long to get over; I could blame it on the fact that I only recently finished my bachelor’s degree in information technology or I could blame it on the fact that I had four or five different jobs in one year.
But the fact of the matter is I’ve been holding out for a salvation of sorts. Not a holy trinity kind of salvation, but more of a “I’m struggling now, but sooner than later all these things will fall into place” kind of salvation.
Last night I celebrated my 24th birthday in the company of my family. By some metrics, it would be considered a pretty low-key way of commemorating the occasion; especially those Miami metrics that consider anything short of an alcohol-fueled rampage at any of the city’s ritzy bars and nightclubs a bit of a bore.
But even if I didn’t “turn up” as hard as others would’ve in my place, I did take the time to reflect on everything that’s been going on in my life up until now and I must confess: the feelings in response to that reflection are mixed.