[NON BLOG] Birthday Notes
Jan. 17th, 2005 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rfmcdonaldA bit over 25 years ago, at a quarter to seven on Monday the 14th of January, 1980, in the old Charlottetown General Hospital, I was born. I've now reached, and passed, the quarter-century mark.
This feels odd. I'm an adult now, for starters; there's no way that I can pretend otherwise. I'm a person who's sufficiently mature to, among other things, get married or join the Canadian military without having to invoke parental consent. I'm responsible for my own welfare. This may, or may not, explain a certain mild anomie that I've felt lately, which may, or may not, be explained in the terms discussed in Quarterlife Crisis. I find myself at a bit of a loss at how to implement my aspirations, how to achieve what I'd like to achieve.
I've always felt this way, I suppose; feeling the lack of something is part of the human condition. The difference, now, is that I can be called to account for it, or (which is worse) not be at all and left to languish in mediocity. Neither option is acceptable; fortunately for me, neither option is inevitable.
In related notes, thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escondidoid for the gift of the book, and thanks again to choreo_m for the card. Both are appreciated. As well, last night's birthday festivities featuring my co-mid-January birthday friend bitterlawngnome were enjoyable--I look forward to the posting of the turnover fiction pieces.
This feels odd. I'm an adult now, for starters; there's no way that I can pretend otherwise. I'm a person who's sufficiently mature to, among other things, get married or join the Canadian military without having to invoke parental consent. I'm responsible for my own welfare. This may, or may not, explain a certain mild anomie that I've felt lately, which may, or may not, be explained in the terms discussed in Quarterlife Crisis. I find myself at a bit of a loss at how to implement my aspirations, how to achieve what I'd like to achieve.
I've always felt this way, I suppose; feeling the lack of something is part of the human condition. The difference, now, is that I can be called to account for it, or (which is worse) not be at all and left to languish in mediocity. Neither option is acceptable; fortunately for me, neither option is inevitable.
In related notes, thanks to
escondidoid for the gift of the book, and thanks again to choreo_m for the card. Both are appreciated. As well, last night's birthday festivities featuring my co-mid-January birthday friend bitterlawngnome were enjoyable--I look forward to the posting of the turnover fiction pieces.
