It's no secret that I was pretty depressed rolling into my birthday last week. I was melancholy. I was mad. I was ... sad. Last Saturday though, I woke up feeling a bit better. And really, every day since, I've woken up feeling even better than the day before. [Editorial aside: Changes are afoot, too, and that makes me happy, as well.] This morning, I woke up excited about tomorrow morning, when I get to practice playing racquetball at the gym. I'm looking forward to my week ahead, and all the random projects I've got lined up for the next five days.
Just yesterday, I was told something that, last year, would have really bugged me. Last year, I would have gotten all full of piss and vinegar. But yesterday, after hanging up the phone, I thought, "Whatever. I don't care anyway." And the best and most exhilarating thing about that? I actually don't care. I'm too old for this kind of thing, and I'm embracing that. I'm too old for the cause and the consequence, and that's fine. In fact, like I said, it's liberating. Like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders.
Also, if I keep playing racquetball, I may end up getting into the best shape I've been in for a long time. And then, we can do the 5K Color Run.
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