34

My birthday's tomorrow. I will be 34. I'm cool with that, and I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say that your 30s are in many ways (not every way) "better" than your 20s.

Tomorrow I will be 34, and I will have more gray hair, cellulite, and spider veins than ever before. I will still have my pizza-dough stomach and my tiger-stripe stretch marks. I will still be in school. I will still be struggling to help maintain a savings account. I will still not know how to ski. My child will still be saying "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy. MOMMMMY. Mommy. Mommy (ad infinitum)" just as he is right now as I type this.

Tomorrow I will be 34, and I will be in the best physical shape of my life so far. I have more resources than I've ever had for coping with difficult emotions and my sometimes-erratic brain. I have more self-awareness than I did at this time last year. My life hasn't changed much since then, but I have a greater appreciation for my life. Same situations, same circumstances, different outlook.

I bought myself two birthday presents:

1) Fancy (for me) shampoo and conditioner

2) This book, which I am really enjoying so far and hope will be helpful: The Mindful Way Through Depression... Because at some point, it would be nice to stop taking Zoloft (though I'm not counting on it).

Tomorrow should be really low-key. I'm doing an early-morning 8-mile run with RF, taking some treats in to share with my class, and maybe grabbing some takeout with my family.