Every Day of Thirty Three

Yesterday was my 33rd birthday. In my humble opinion, 33 is the age when you can really plant your flag in the ground and say, “I’m old now.” 33 is, as one friend coined it, my Jesus year, meaning I’m the now the same age as Jesus was before he was ceremoniously executed. Look at everything that guy got accomplished in 365 days. Another friend asked, “Are you still in your early 30’s or are you in your mid-30’s now?” Another friend, another message. “#onwardto40”. I groused about the passage of time to my boyfriend for several hours yesterday. He, being 1 year and 6 days younger than I, sympathized. Frankly, this year is a lot to live up to.

But this year, I’m going to write every day. Every single day. I’m going to try to publish something—anything—ever single day for the next 365 days. No censoring. No over editing (my favorite!), and freeing myself to create. Maybe it will be good! Maybe it will be hot trash but it will be me. So…hello 33.

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