Hey Twenty-Eight Year Old Emily,
Welcome. I’m excited you’re here, mostly because I’m tired and I got to enjoy some pre-birthday presents in your honor. Yay!
What a year. I was pleasantly surprised that I checked quite a few things off this list. I baked. I crafted. I visited New York at Christmas. I survived a robbery. I got a new job. I saw my brother and two of my closest friends get engaged (not to each other). I ran a half-marathon. I cleansed. I coordinated a wedding. I ran 5 miles of a 10-miler. I decided I hated running. I wasted a lot of time on Pinterest. I read Harry Potter. I pantsed myself.
But of all the fun twenty-seven year old things I did, it was also a year of worrying about what’s next. I spent far too much time concerned about where I was and where I wasn’t. Don’t let that be your legacy too. Don’t not do something because you don’t know how it’s gonna turn out. Be open. Be fearless. I give you permission to make mistakes.
Yes, I had to call Mom and Dad at 9:30 last night because I had a question about buying meat. It’s ok. Let Twenty-Nine and Thirty Year Old Emilys be mature. I’ll let you in on a secret now, you’re not going to have all the answers. Also buying meat is hard.
I’m a procrastinator and I’m willing to bet you are too. Birthday list or not, there’s a lot to do. Change is coming. I can feel it. Let the weight of the unknown go and enjoy.
Twenty-Seven Year Old Emily
P.S. I’m trying this eat-less-sugar thing. Good luck with that.