September 22nd 2019

Today is my twentysixth birthday. For the first time in three years, I didn’t spend my birthday snorkelling, which I’ve just found out is somewhat of a tradition. Last year I was snorkelling in Skopelos, the year before that it was Rhodes. This year I was in London, but not snorkelling. That would be unsanitary.

I’ve been in London all weekend. Sort of as a ‘my birthday’ thing with my friends from Uni, but that was mainly just an excuse to meet up and get drunk rather than anything.

I’ll be honest, it’s not really felt like a birthday. It’s just felt like any other day. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a good day: I got to see my sister in London, and I’ve had two roast dinners. It’s been a good day, and a good weekend, but it’s not felt like a birthday. Maybe that comes with age.

Twenty six. Damn.

My birthday usually makes me feel super reflective, and today has been no different. I don’t feel great, I won’t lie, and the fact I am super tired and super hungover doesn’t help. I’ve had like 8 hours combined sleep since Thursday.

Twenty six.

Until tomorrow, hold onto hope if you’ve got it.


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