Read time: 4 min.

My birthday was last Tuesday. All in all, my thirty-third trip around the sun may have been my favorite yet! It took a week, but I finally had time to reflect on it and take the necessary photo.

The lead-up to my last birthday saw me stressed, frustrated, and exhausted. I was working seventy-hour weeks supervising production at a lid factory and acting as its quality analyst. Sometimes, I did both at the same time! The hours were crushing, the job was stressful, and the ship was sinking. With water up to my knees, I applied at a plastics factory the next town over.

My new role as lab technician started two months before I turned thirty-two. The job didn’t offer as much responsibility or money as I was used to, but it promised a realistic work-life balance. It made all the difference in exploring my passions and even starting this blog. Since then, I’ve occasionally interrupted my regular programming with personal updates:

Zulu joined Disco as queens of the house.
I spent a week on Edisto Island in South Carolina.
I navigated a devastating Bipolar II disorder episode.
I was promoted to production planner for North America at work.
I had a hernia repaired.
I recovered from having the hernia repaired. And recovered. And recovered. And recovered…
I was named editor of the Delaware County Historical Society newsletter.
I was elected to the DCHS board.

The past year hasn’t been without its challenges, but it was the best of my adult life. In fact, I was so caught up in it that my birthday snuck up on me. I consecrated it by taking a half day at work, editing blog drafts, and eating Jimmy John’s and some redskin potato salad!

The real celebration took place on Saturday with a tradition my mom and I have observed for the past six years. I was a returning student trying to get an elusive diploma when it started. Money was tight, so Mom offered to drive me down to southern Indiana to the last handful of Hoosier courthouses I hadn’t taken photos of yet.

Finances aren’t an obstacle today, but Mom and I have kept the practice alive to spend time together exploring our shared interests. Our birthday drives have taken us to courthouses in four states, schoolhouses all over East-Central Indiana, and the bizarro Muncie in Illinois! Saturday’s took us from Muncie to old AT&T Long Line towers in nine counties as part of my newest statewide history project.

Embracing my esoteric interests over the last three years has been fun and fulfilling. Despite that, I’m still getting used to being in my thirties. It sounds strange to admit in an age of ever-increasing lifespans, but I never thought I’d make it this far! The feeling started when I was about ten, when my dad convinced me that I’d die by the time I turned thirty if I didn’t make significant changes to my young life.

I left eighth grade knowing three things: the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell, n equaled 5 when 3n + 2 = 17, and that I would die before my thirtieth year. Things got harder after I was diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder as a college freshman. They became even more difficult after Dad died in 2011. I spent the next decade in a weird mix of mourning, excess, and suspense.

I haven’t quite kicked that feeling, but I didn’t die, of course. These days, simple things like Jimmy John’s, old Long Line towers, and everything else I linked give me a chance to reset and refocus my goals for next year. I think of thirty-four as another bonus! I never planned to be this age, but each unforeseen milestone provides a series of new pages to write. I’ve filled a few of them up so far, and I can’t wait to see what my next birthday brings.