It's my birthday and I'll run if I want to

Pure awesomeness

I woke up this morning, 31 years old and, all that be-in-the-moment, the-happiness-is-within crap aside, not quite where I want to be in life. It was raining. I could tell it was going to be a no good, very bad day. And I thought fuck it, I'm going running. So I did. Not very far, but it was just what I needed. I kept expecting it to hurt and it didn't. I thought don't get too hopeful, don't push your luck. So I ran home, took a most excellent shower, and put on the most ridiculous piece of clothing I own - a shirt depicting a pug wearing a top hat.

I've started to get glimmers of excitement, but I know I have to shut it down or it will only lead to crushing disappointment. And yet, every time I try to type the word hopeless, it comes out as hopeful instead, and then I have to go back and correct it. Stupid optimism. Why do you build me up just to let me down? Apparently crushing disappointment is a risk I'm willing to take.

My friend George told me I am "a force of awesomeness to be reckoned with." And I thought, not yet. But that's it. I have finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up...a force of awesomeness to be reckoned with.

I hope birthday wishes come true. I could use all the help I can get.

Lyric of the moment: "Thirty-one today. What a thing to say...I thought my life would be different somehow. I thought my life would be better by now..."