Today is my 25th birthday. That’s a quarter of a century. Five squared. A pretty cool number, really. So I feel like I should have some insightful writing to mark the occasion.
But I’m just tired. And a little depressed. I don’t the energy to do much of anything in the little time that I have at home after work. And even less time by the time my boyfriend gets home. I’m either going to work, working, coming back from work, or hiding from my boyfriend’s family.
I don’t know what to do. Right now, I guess I’m going to bed.