Twenty seven.
More than 26 but less than 28.
What does that even mean?
2 + 7 = 9. I was born on the 9th. Lucky number?
Does it mean I've grown wiser? Doubt it. More experienced? Maybe. Truth is I still don't know what to do with my life. Or where I want to live. I do things one at a time, I check them off one by one. I try not to think about the big picture as all it gives me is a headache. I need a bigger head for that.
Do I feel different from a week ago when I was 26? That would be just stupid. But there's one really good thing about my birthday, besides the usual three-day partying. Shortly after it always comes spring. And everything looks so much better.
