Untitled.

It's my birthday on Thursday. I'm going to be 25. Officially in the latter twenties, and I'm not sure how I feel about it if I'm honest. In my mind, I'm neither responsible enough or tall enough to be 25. It's not going to be an enjoyable birthday. My nan was super in to birthdays. You'd go downstairs in the morning, and she'd emerge from her bedroom or the kitchen singing Happy Birthday To You. She'd always have your card out and ready on the dining table. Later on if there was a birthday cake, she'd sing Happy Birthday again, harmonizing as she sang. Even though she said she didn't care much for her own birthday, she always made sure to make a big deal over yours. I'm not just facing my first birthday without her, I'm facing my first birthday with no grandparents there at all, which has never happened before.

Last years birthday was a strange one too. I wasn't long post-breakdown, and I had just started my current job. I had the grand total of two friends at the time, but I wasn't ready to leave my house to see anyone. This year social wise was a bit better. I went for drinks with a good girl-friend of mine, and tomorrow I'm going for ice cream with another friend of mine.

As for my general life situation from last year, there's been serious changes. I'm officially a student and in over £3000 worth of debt because of that fact. I'm enrolled on an Access to Nursing course, and in November I'll be applying to universities. I'm comfortable in my job and I adore it. I've got some good friends.





Basically what I'm trying to say is I have some really deep emotional stuff to talk about, but I don't know how to start so I'm going to talk about superficial rubbish and hope that you all fall for it.

See you next time,
Rosie.