Well, this is it. The last day of my 20s. I have been dreading this day on and off for a while now. It is no longer because 30 scares me, or I feel old, or anything ridiculous like that. It is because tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. I hate that cliché. Isn’t everyday day the first in the rest of your life? The first one you have to get through, to deal with, to check off your list? Sure. But seven weeks ago I set out to define what I am going to accomplish, who I will be, in my next decade on this planet. There is no clear cut definition I can summarize, no way of telling the future and there sure as hell aren’t any answers springing forth to solve my issues. But I have started to develop a clearer image of the immediate future, the person I am, and the person I am becoming. And that future starts tomorrow. And that scares and excites me and that is why I dread it. This is the first day I took my time, enjoyed every minute I had, and every moment I gave myself. I did my hair, did my nails, even my eyebrows – and that is no fun task. But I enjoyed the hell out of it. I didn’t feel guilt. I looked forward to it. And I look forward to tomorrow too. I even told my girls that we are planning on moving and it went quite well.