24...

So next week I will be turning 24 years old. I’m slightly devastated (I realize that the word devastated implies feeling emotions in such an intense way that you would never use the phrase slightly, but I have chosen it because I’m dramatic and I feel it really expresses how I feel).

That is full-on mid-twenties. For some reason I think that I should feel more grown up, I should be more independent, I should have done something remarkable with my already, but alas I will be 24 with little to my name but some great ambition.

I miss feeling incredibly young, and if I feel this way at almost 24 imagine how I’ll feel at 40!! Yikes. Last night I went to the Rockies and had an amazing time and played a little bit too late. I crashed into my bed at roughly 12:30 a.m., woke up at 6:15 a.m. and I was out the door for work within 30 minutes. I feel that it goes without saying that my general appearance is less-than-stellar, at least I managed to throw together a cute outfit (denim pencil skirt, white tunic, yellow skinny belt cinching the waste, hair in pony tail, bangs out, black flats).

Remember as a freshman and sophomore in college I consistently survived off of less than six hours of sleep a night for months and months?? Eventually my body revolted and these terrible migraines came into my life – but those were easily solved by the four months of summer that brought more sleep into my life.

Two-straight days with less than six hours of sleep and I’m dead. It’s terrible and terrifying.