So, it's my birthday week. Technically, my birthday was on Monday, the 14th, but this has turned into a week-long celebration, and I'm totally fine with that. :)
I turned 31 this year. So far, it sucks a lot less than turning 30 did. A lot of my friends claim that they feel more comfortable and happy with themselves and their lives in their 30s, but personally, my 30th birthday threw me into a big ol' pit of depression. I think it was just the realization that in 30 years on this earth I hadn't accomplished anything I thought I needed to. I don't have kids, I don't have a college degree, and my day job is still the one I was working during summers in high school. I felt like a failure for a long time during my 30th year.
But, now at 31, I've realized some things. Despite not finishing college, I'm becoming a successful author. Within the next two years, I should be able to safely transition to writing full-time. Not many people, college grads or no, can say that. And I don't have kids yet, because infertility is a heartless a**hole, but we're working our way toward IVF treatments. I love my coworkers, and even though I don't make a lot of money in my day job, for the most part it pays the bills. And even though I was super depressed and feeling worthless, last year I got a new agent, wrote my heinie off, got new deals with three publishers that I'm super excited about, and generally gave my writing career the shot in the arm that it needed.
Life is a big ball of what-you-make-it. And I think, now that the dreaded specter of 30 has passed, that I can make it a whole lot more fun than it was previously. So here's to 31 candles. I think that extra one has a lot of potential. :)
I'm an optimistic hermit with lots of geek tendencies. You can internet-stalk me here. :) Don't forget, I'm two people!
My Regina Cole website is here. I'm also on the Tweeterz, and the BookFace.