Five Years Old

Five years ago today, I took a break from packing for London to write my first post on this blog. (And then took an even longer break to fiddle with the layout, pick a background, and make a header.) I can still picture all my clothes lying on the floor. Can feel the panic rise up in my chest because I'd never be ready. Can remember preventing a panic attack by writing instead. A lot changes in five years, but losing myself in writing has definitely been a constant.

And a lot has happened in five years. For starters, it's the difference between 22 and 27, between 3 months out of college and 5 years and 3 months out of college, between moving 10 times and moving 14 times, between having no job and having the same job for 3 years and seven months. I never imagined I'd be where I am now five years ago -- which isn't a bad thing -- and I can't imagine where I'll be five years from now.

I do know that it will be the difference between 27 and 32, between 5 years and 3 months out of college and 10 years and 3 months out of college, between moving 14 times and moving who knows how many times, and between having the same job for 3 years and seven months and having who knows what job for who knows how long. But I guess I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and figuring it out along the way. Which means sometimes I'm laughing until I can't breathe and sometimes my heart is breaking. Sometimes every piece is perfectly in place and sometimes I can't find a single pair of matching socks. But no matter what I'll find the time to blog about it. Eventually.

Photo source.