It’s been a while since I’ve done a stream of consciousness blog post (a.k.a. a blog post I spend absolutely no time preparing for because I’m lazy *cutesy thumbs up*). So, today is the day.
Incidentally, today is also my 22nd birthday.
Bring on the sprinkles!
As I lay here, in my bed, with the laptop balancing on my belly flab and pop tart crumbs on my chest, I am thinking about the number twenty-two. Thinking about life, really. My life up to this point.
Last year was a doozy. I wrote about it in Goodbye 2016, Hello 2017. My year of 21 was The Year Of Humility. It was horrid. It spilled into 2017, resulting in my car being stolen, my health declining, and a glamorous 45-minute meltdown in front of a cute boy, slurping up snot because there wasn’t a tissue in sight.
That night, I blew my nose on a sanitary napkin and knew without a shadow of a doubt that—unemployed, unsuccessful, possibly-dying, car-less and pathetically blubbering—I had hit rock bottom.
I don’t know what happened from there.
I started caring about God more. Going to Him more. Reading the Word. My best friends began texting back and forth daily verses and things they learned in their quiet times. I got back into journaling, something I haven’t done in years.
It was like the darkness lifted.
I’m still unemployed. But God actually blessed me with a five-week trial on jury duty. Going somewhere every day gave me a new sense of purpose. I made connections and asked around and maybe through this, I will find a job to support myself.
They found my car. Granted, it was missing a stereo, spare tire, and battery, but my wonderful father spent his Saturday fixing it up for me and I’m no longer dependent on someone to drive me.
I feel a whole lot better. I choke down a handful of vitamins every day. Even though I struggle to swallow them, it’s 100% worth it from my new energy levels and diminished pain.
So this is my life right now, as I enter into my year of twenty-two. Could you say I’m happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time? Yeah. I’m feeling twenty-two.
But really. It’s not a bad life.
Not bad at all.
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