When I was born in 1967 I was two weeks late. Arriving, as I did, at breakfast time on the 6th of April, too late for the midwife to turn the clock back in order to pretend I’d been born on the 5th, I deprived my poor father of an entire year’s tax rebate…not the best first impression I could’ve made.
In just a few hours time I will turn 45.
People say that life begins at 40…well I was a bit of a late starter…but life has certainly begun now and I have never had so much fun or felt so good about being me.
I’ve almost finished my first year at University…and yes, you’re right, I did say that I’m turning 45, I told you I was a late starter. I just have two essays to write and a short exam to sit and then I’m done until the end of September…well, provided I don’t have to resit anything in the summer.
The first year has gone scarily fast. Three years sounded like quite a big chunk of life when I enrolled, but one third has already gone and the time when I have to decide what path to take on the next part of life’s great journey is soon going to be looming up…I have no idea what I’m going to do when I leave, but I’m sure some sort of inspiration will come to me sooner or later.
The next few months are going to be quite exciting, I have two trips planned – New York with one of my best friends in June and Florence on my own in September.
My first ever solo holiday, to Barcelona, which I find incredible to believe only took place about 14 months ago, was possibly the best thing I ever did in terms of confidence building. It was only a two-night city break, but I can’t tell you how much I got out of it or how much I’m looking forward to repeating the experience in a different country.
I am really happy right now.
Happy Birthday to me x.
