This week, I turn one year older. 36. Not too sure how that happened. I don't feel 36. Hell, some days I don't feel 26. Or 21. But here I am, 36. Three-six. Thirty plus six. Twice Eighteen. Three is half of six....
It does not bother me some how. This age. I feel good, I am fairly certain that I don't look half bad, I am loving life, and the corners of my eyes are well practiced with smiling. My job makes me happy, I look forward to seeing what these interesting people create as they learn and grow. I have friends that I adore and cherish. Friends who have been with me for a long time. Friends who will be with me for a long time. I happen to be very content and in love. My heart still does a little flutter when I roll over in the morning and see those brown eyes smiling at me as I wake up. I hope it always does flutter. I hope those eyes always smile at me as I groggily wake up and burrow into the crook of his arm.
I am happy at 36.
I feel good at 36.