Ah, being in my 30s. I’m not 30. I’m in my 30s. Wow. This means that I’m just young enough to still have my whole life ahead of me, and just old enough to rationally take stock of what’s behind me. For the last few months, I’ve been in the midst of an existential not-quite-crisis, and I’ve been trying to collect myself. Not monumental, right? People do that all the time. Life seems topsy-turvy, and you put the pieces back together. I started doing that, and came to the realization that I want to change the arrangement of some of the pieces. Other pieces, I want to scrap altogether.
My inner self has been telling me, “Chica, you’re going about this all wrong.” So the big question is, “How do I go about it?”
Yeah…no clue. But I’ll get there.