Twenty Five Years and One Day

I spent some time yesterday afternoon looking up essays and stories about turning 25. What I found was mostly nonsense, ridiculous panic, or (in one case) the to-do list of a misguided 23-year-old who wanted to get married, have a baby, buy a house, and get her masters degree by the time she turned 25. After that little bit of research, I decided that I was spending my November 6th turning 25 in a much better fashion than anyone I came across in my googling.

I've spent the past few days having mini-celebrations with a variety of friends that have added up to one fantastic birthdays. I also participated in the yearly tradition my roommate has of asking, "What did you learn this year?" We were walking down the street, trading turns listing what I had learned, and by the end of the walk I was feeling nearly-wise. The number one lesson I've learned? Decisions motivated by guilt are not healthy (sounds obvious, but when applied to a decision such as whether or not to leave a negative work environment filled with children that you love, well, it can get pretty tricky.)

There have been so many lessons that it's unbelievable they've been crammed into only one year. It turns out that when you're not overwhelmed by learning lessons about a new job and a new city, you get the chance to learn a few lessons about yourself. Hopefully, 25 will be just as good as 24.