File: Life

I keep forgetting how old I am.

I hadn't been asked since my birthday back in December. I realize that's not the longest time, but it's incredible that I just can't seem to remember. Am I 27 or 28? Both seem scary and neither seem like 26, which I thought I was.

Read an article in Jane about why it's awesome to be in your 20s followed by an article about a bunch of amazing women in their 20s. It made me blue. What am I doing with myself? How do I get mentioned as a "30 under 30"? If I die right now, will anyone remember me in five years? Blue kitty, I.

I need to remember to continue on my path and redefine my goals. The spring of stuff that scares me helps. Maybe? It's possible that I'm just diluting my goals, once again shying away in a passive act of self-sabotage. Plan: one weekend a month dedicated to goals. Current big goal: publish something. Matt's counter: I already have. My counter counter: Not good enough. Secondary goal: stop discounting self.

So there it is. Show shopping (matching Chucks) helped. Newfound love of piano playing helps. Cats who hate one another does not help.

Okay, off to conquer another week.