This story is a little personal to me right now.
I have 15 days until I turn 30.
15 days until I'm at that border that we all seemed to think was old when we were kids.
15 days until I'm supposed to 'have my shit together'.
And although 30 is just an arbitrary number, I am struggling with it mentally.
So I'm going to write. For the next 15 days, I'm going to write, and I'm going to post it even if no one reads it. Because then I can say that I did it. I wrote a book before I was 30. I did something off of the bucket list of life that we're supposed to have done before we're 'old'.
...
Even though I know I have plenty of time left in my life.
It doesn't end at 30.
I don't have kids.
I'm not married.
I don't have a fabulous career.
And this book is not going to be good.
But it's mine. And that's enough for me.
