Yesterday was my Twenty-Seventh birthday.
Last week, I was pretty depressed about the whole thing. Not in an "I'm so old" way, but more in a "what the eff am I doing with my life" kind of way.
As I was telling my mom last night, I feel like my life has become so routine that I've lost the spontaneous nature I used to have. My days pretty much look like this: get up - go to work - come home - make dinner - zone out on the couch - go to sleep - repeat. There's no za-za-zoom. I think the part that bothers me most is the lack of fufillment; I don't find any meaning in my job, so I probably rely on the hubs (& Molly) to make up for it. That's a tall order for anyone and an unfair one at that. So then I rely on "things" to make up the difference. And we can all see where that's gotten me.
It's time to get off my hamster wheel. I'm not sure what that means for me yet, but I'll be sure to bring you all along.