Year: noun : the period of about 3651/4 solar days required for one revolution of the earth around the sun; the time required for the apparent sun to return to an arbitrary fixed or moving reference point in the sky.
I’ve seen 32 of those now. I texted my mom this morning to say thanks for giving birth to me….and then deciding to keep me around and raise me to be the person I am today. Maybe it’s because 87% (statistic made up on the spot) of my friends have at least one child now and I have a new found appreciation for the literal labours of bringing a baby into the world (as many of them have explained these labours to me in gory detail), but I’m starting to think my birthday is more an accomplishment for my mother than it will ever be for me.
Thirty-two isn’t much of a landmark. It’s not like turning thirty. And I can no longer smile and proudly tell people I’m “Thirty-FUN” anymore. But it will be a big year for me. At 32, I’ll graduate (at least I hope I will) as a veterinary surgeon. I’ll seek (and hopefully gain) employment in this beloved field of mine. I’ll move back across an ocean and say goodbye to my life in Scotland.
I plan on breathing some new life into this little blog of mine. I want to record my adventures, to share and relive them.
Today was a good reminder of just how special this time is to me. Having a summer birthday, I’m not used to having many friends around to celebrate with me. For goodness sakes, when I turned 30, I took Huckleberry on a road trip to the west coast and imposed on my generous lambing family for tea and cake along the way! It would have been a very lonely day if not for my sidekick and the hospitality of the Hendersons.
This year is a little different as we are all in the midst of our final year clinical rotations. When I arrived at the Hospital for Small Animals this morning, I was pleasantly surprised to see a brightly coloured gift bag in my locker. So surprised, in fact, that I dropped my tea mug, spilling my tea all over the locker room. I giggled as I mopped up my mess wondering how my friend figured out which locker was mine and snuck a present into it (this is the locker I’ve used every day for over a week now and never bother locking…)
After checking on my inpatients, I rushed up the stairs, late to our “group meeting” where we were going to discuss our case loads and make sure everyone was comfortable with the amount of work they had for the week. ANOTHER SURPRISE – my group didn’t actually have a meeting planned, they had cupcakes and Costa lattes for everyone! I was also given a “Birthday Girl” badge to wear, which I attached to my pocket and promptly forgot about, leading to more surprises throughout the day as people I didn’t even know wished me a happy birthday. How do they all know, I wondered.
I didn’t expect 32 to feel like a glamorous birthday. I was actually feeling so tired – tired from the tips of my toes to my eye lashes kinda tired – that when I came home, I took a few minutes to be horizontal before slathering some make up on my face and changing into real clothes for going out in public.
When it came to making dinner, I poured a bowl of cereal. And when it came to ordering drinks, I opted for a dirty gin martini with 3 olives. Something about this combination felt very adult to me. Even though most adults probably balance their gin with real dinners that have vegetables and some form of lean protein, maybe even an ancient grain instead of cold cereal and ever so slightly soured milk (not so sour it was chunky, but sour enough to prove being single means it’s near impossible to keep dairy items around).
Gone are the days of apple-tinis and bubblegum lip gloss. I’m approaching my second real chance at adulthood. I expect it to be similar to my first go – with a bit more suave and little less patience for slum landlords and stiff off-street parking competition. I expect many more exhausted dinners of cheese and crackers or cereal. I expect to get a regular paycheck and an occasional pedicure. I expect to be chewing the chunks of sour milk in my tea tomorrow when I over sleep my alarm and forget that the milk in my fridge is slightly off….
Will expectations match reality? Stay tuned. Same bat day, same bat channel.