36

I'm sitting here at an obscene hour enjoying the last few minutes of being 35. I'm also struggling with writing some papers.  I need to write lots, but I can't write the stuff I'm actually accountable for until I write the stuff that my brain is obsessing over.

Don't people usually make a big deal out of those big round numbers?  Why do I care about 36? I'll tell you why.  Because 36 is closer to 40 than it is to 30.  I struggled with 30.  I struggled with it because I was in a pretty lousy place at the time, and because I didn't believe much would change from there out.  36 isn't that kind of a struggle.  36 is frankly easier because things did change, and because I feel like I have accomplished some things I really wanted in life. Its also easier because I am still accomplishing things, and so life is moving forward, changing and shifting. 

So really, as of right now (minutes before the official change) 36 feels like a new haircut, leftover mexican food from an evening with dear friends, and a few avoided research papers.  Not a bad sum. I've grown to love the feeling of having something to do, just becuase I know that left to my own devices I will get into trouble. 

But there are bits of it that feel unfinished. Like I lost a few years in there.  Shouldn't I still be 32? People in choir keep assuming I'm one of those 28-29 year olds.  Lovely, thank you, oh how I wish!

The nice thing is, 36 will have some interesting stuff. The choir will go on tour to Minnesota (and some other places that don't matter as much), I will do a practicum and then start an internship (weird to think that when I hit 37 I will be a practicing intern- yikes), and probably lots of other stuff that comes along the road.  The nice thing is, I don't worry about whats coming anymore, because the days fly by so full of stuff that I hardly have time to realize its happening let alone record it.  I know I won't be bored. The real problem is taking charge enough to choose which things happen and try and make the time feel less lost.


And 36 just sounds so much more grown up than I feel.  Part of me wants to rebel by going to wal-mart and having shopping cart races or eating a ridiculous amount of candy.  Then another part of me recognizes that its cute for kids to act like kids and its cute for 80 and 90 year olds to act like kids.  During the in-between years, its just plain irritating.  There is something serious about being 36. Its a sedan-or-min-van-driving, desk-job-sitting, responsible citizen sounding age. 

Maybe I'm truly backwards.  You know how most people have some sort of a midlife crisis and they flip out and do something fun?  Or they buy a sports car or quit their job to chase their dreams or something.... Maybe I'm opposite-girl.  Maybe instead of having a fun mid-life crisis, I'm am going to suddenly start being all serious.  Next time you see me sitting reverently through church or quietly managing paperwork in the corner, or reading non-fiction, do me a favor and give me a smack.  Tell me to snap out of it.  Remind me that this is not who I am.  I will not be 36.  Hand me some Harry Potter and make me jump in some leaves or throw a snowball. 

36 is a technicality.  A passing fad.  Something that must be passed through in order to acheive 37, a delightfully prime number.  36 won't take me down and turn me into an accountant.  Do you hear me, 36? You better.