Giving 34 a chance.

When I turned 30, it didn't phase me.  I didn't want to turn 29 again, or run away from it.

I turned 34 in October.   I am already feeling anxious about turning 35.  I've never felt this way about getting older.  It's a feeling of uncertainty.  Like everything is downhill from here.  I'm going to start getting wrinkles, and I'll have to start worrying about my skin, and who knows what other ailments 35 will bring.  I've already started getting gray hairs and that alone is hitting me hard.  Not my hair...

Maybe I should play mind games with myself.  Convince myself that I've already turned 35, so when I really do turn 35, it won't be any different.

But that's not really fair to 34, now is it? Poor little guy.  Waited 33 years for his turn, and now I'm entertaining the idea of retiring him after three short months?  That's not fair at all.

Ok 34, I won't do that to you.

You deserve to shine.  This is your year.  Show me what you've been waiting all my life for me to see.

I expressed my anxiety and subsequent thoughts to Chad tonight and he looked at me like I was a bag of crazy.