Nobody loved you when you were 23

Here I am again, I never went anywhere I just closed my eyes for a little while. I'm 24 now, and have been for a day. Since I was 17 I always wanted to be 24, and I don't know why. But it's kind of nice. I had the best birthday I've had in a long time and even worked during it.

Last week I did something, actually did something, I said I was going to do. Through fire and ice and high voltage I ran, over 8ft walls and through 3ft mud and 60cm wide tunnels. I ran a 12.5km assault course. It wasn't as hard as I was expecting but at some parts I was nearly being sick/passing out so it still wasn't easy though it was incredibly fun. It felt amazing running across that finish line. A couple of days later I ran 5 miles, so I'm not stopping, not when I have another 19lbs to lose.

I painted something, too. It's not finished but it's 75% there and I love it. One of the things I've always wanted to do is make something that isn't perfect and still be happy with it and that's what I've done. I already have a new army of paints, an empty Lloyd Grossman Chilli jar for water and a canvass ready for when I start my next project.

Another thing I managed last week was to go back to writing. I've been reading a book series pretty much every day for 2 months, and I am 14 out of 15 books into it. If you haven't read the Dresden Files, I highly recommend it. The writing is smooth, fast and dynamic. So, inspired by the devil-may-care narration, I thought sod it, you need to write your book. Who cares if it's not as good as you want it to be first time? and proceeded to write a page. Tonight I'll try and write another page. Baby steps.

So things are looking up.

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