imagesWait, really? This feels much like the title of an episode of Party of Five (am I dating myself here?)

Have I really gotten to the point of blogging about my singleness? Truth is, being single and in my 30’s isn’t so bad.

See, once I hit the big three-oh, I stopped in my tracks and did an about face. And I ran…faster…and faster…and faster…into the bittersweet wild yonder AKA the dreams of my youth.

As I passed by the mistakes and milestones, I felt illuminated. It was like doing all the things I’d wanted to do better during my younger years — only doing them now with all the things I’ve learned since.

Picture it: 27 and finding my way alone through the D.C. landscape as a starving writer. I worked from home, missed out on a lot of social opportunities and felt sorry for myself a whole lot.

If only I’d known then, that the gain of working in pajamas with a bottomless coffee mug in one hand isn’t worth having no human companionship during the days.

Twenty-five is a birthday I’d rather forget most days. More about that soon.

4 thoughts on “Single-thirty-something

      • Hahah! Well, I’m sorry I confused you. ;-( I don’t like thinking about my past most days either. Sometimes it helps me to remember where I’ve come from and how I have made it through.

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