In an hour and a half I'll be thirty years old.
I remember the day my mom turned thirty. I remember the presents we made for her out of puffy paint and empty toilet paper tubes.
I'll wake up tomorrow a thirty year old with no kids, no handmade presents waiting for me, no husband brewing coffee in the kitchen.
I'll wait up thirty; with my cat.
He'll beg for me to feed him as I stumble in the half-darkness making my way to the fridge through the mass of things he knocked over during the night.
I'll look for a clean spoon and realize they didn't grant my birthday wish and wash themselves overnight, I'll put on an old vintage dress that I recently received as a hand-me-down present from a friend, I'll attempt to tease my hair in a way that will last all day, I'll forget where I put my shoes, glasses, keys, and then I'll wander bleary-eyed out into the day and drive my car to work.
I'll spend the day at a less than impressive desk with a less than impressive job that I really don't like and I will attempt to not let sarcastic commentary out of my inner monologue when someone is rude to me on the phone.
But I will be thirty. I will have lives for three decades, I'll have outlived half of my best friends, I'll meet my boyfriend for coffee on my morning break and wonder why it is that he continues to adore me so, I'll worry about what my fluffy terror-obsessed kitten is doing to my house while at work and I'll smile in appreciation that I at least have a boss who knows I don't like my job and he still appreciates me for putting in as much effort as if I did.
I'll spend the day giggling with my office mate who is as beautiful on the inside as she is outside and I will smell all the flowers at my favorite floral shop when I go wandering on my afternoon break.
This isn't where I'd hoped to be by the age of thirty but given where I was and could have been instead, it's a pretty awesome trade.
I could have been coming up on my 9ths wedding anniversary, would probably have had two kids by now, Hannah and Trent, our fish William would have long since died and been replaced by a multitude of other pet store goldfish and I would probably be wondering where my life could have been if I'd followed my dreams.
I could have been in Hollywood working for a friend at Warner Brothers who had immeasurable faith in me and saw me for who I had been and who I was yet to be. I could have been scraping to get by in some kickass studio apartment off Sunset Blvd. I could have been famous and wondering where I would have been if I had settled for what I once thought was the sky.
Once upon a time I wanted to write greeting cards for Hallmark, live in a one bedroom apartment above a coffee shop, play my guitar at open mic nights and come home each night to a white siamese cat named Moses.
I could have, if Hallmark hadn't been in Kansas City, if the internship had paid, if my favorite coffee shop hadn't closed down, and if the apartments above it had better water pipes and allowed cats.
Instead, I have an orange kitten with more medical conditions than I can count on both hands. I have a daughter in heaven, conceived through rape; I have a one bedroom apartment that really should be called a studio and I have a boyfriend who says I look fifteen again when I get a "shy smile" as I brag about how awesomely I did my hair.
This isn't where I expected to be but I've got a lot more to love about life than to hate and that's a pretty awesome trade.
When I wake up tomorrow, it will be with the same hopes I had on my birthdays of 13, 16, 18 and 21 -- a starry eyed hope that things will magically feel different. That life will someone look more vibrant, feel more alive... that something awesome might happen simply because it's another day of the week but I have a new number next to my name.
I honestly can't remember if anything magical happened on those days. But my hair stylist said, in the off chance that something does, I should call her and let her know. And maybe nothing magical will ever happen on any "milestone" year. But the thought that someone else is closing their eyes and wishing on my behalf too, hey, that's pretty magical in itself.
My spoons will never clean themselves but I have people in my life who genuinely love me. That's a lot more than some people can say. And for that, I am truly blessed.
