Yesterday was my birthday. Yay birthday! As days go it was fairly quiet, but fun, happy and with much laughter. This, I think, is all I could ask for.
I have to say, I rather liked being 23. It was a good age; lots of important things learned about myself, important work done and the like. Though the stress of the day job has not been inconsiderable, and the year had its serious ups and downs (reminder to self: in winter, MUST GET MORE LIGHT), I have to say that I enjoy not having the constant pressure of the school routine anymore. I have loved being able to read my own books again, and for pleasure, not because someone is expecting me to incorporate it into an essay. Plus, I think I had another not-inconsiderable leap in my writing (the Year of No Sales being of no consequence in this regard).
But 24 feels like it will be more stable. I say this on nothing but gut reaction -- and it's a gut full of cake, so take that how you will.
Also: tomorrow is my last day at the Career Centre. My last day at York. The end of thirteen months of Career Centre and five years' worth of York. I'm looking forward to it -- and yet in an odd way I feel like nothing will be different. As if next week I will set my alarm and get up and go to work as per usual ... and the week after that ... and the week after that ... It's hard, sometimes, to get my subconscious to get on board with what my conscious brain has known for months. Silly brain.