Thirty Eight in Four

I’m turning 38 in four days. Thirty eight. Maybe it’s a lucky number? Back in the day, I used to have the number 8 on my jersey when I played hockey and I had a number 3 when I played ringette and I remember really liking both of those numbers. Therefore I’m hoping that this will be a lucky year.

Am I feeling like 38? Probably, yes. For instance, I need to go to bed early. I can't stay up really late if I want to be mentally present the next day. I must be sure to sit up straight, or else my back will kill me. And I just can't seem to see the point with going out for drinks if the music is too loud for talking.

In my twenties, I was constantly trying to seize each and every opportunity to make a difference. I guess I was worried something amazing would pass me by if I didn't stay alert. These days, I'm happy with knowing I did my best for the people I care about. Overachieving for overachieving sake is just so overrated.

But am I just turning into a more boring version of myself? I don't know exactly but I do know that rock climbing (which I'm passionate about) is anything but boring. And I'm definitely becoming more and more restless the older I get, which is kind of strange. It should be the other way around, right? A few more years and I won't be able to sit still for even half an hour.

And for some reason, I'm also becoming slightly more eccentric each year. Maybe that’s because I care less and less about what other people think of me? My last Amazon order contained books on how to survive the end of civilization, Fertility Wisdom: How Traditional Chinese Medicine Can Help Overcome Infertility, a teen romance and the Ultimate French Beginner coursebook.

It’s ironic how you can find yourself by cutting through all the pretentious clutter, just to find true pretentiousness beneath. I used to think that I was special different, but as it turns out, I'm just another girl trying to make my way through life. If I had had that revaluation in my twenties, I’d probably been devastated. Today, I'm fine with knowing that I'm doing a good job.

However, I still want to win though. The desire to divide and conquer burns as bright as ever before. But I'm not sure I want to battle it out by putting in more hours than the next person anymore. No, I want to win by being smarter. By doing less. By being effective. Perhaps putting all of those hard learned lessons to work for me.

Maybe. Or maybe...I'm just hoping for some crazy good old blind out-of-the-blue luck (conceive, carry & bring home a healthy baby JaAdam) this year. 

Either way, I'm ready for 38.

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