22...23...24...

Maturity. It's a scary word, isn't it?

I'm going to be turning the big 2.4. next week and I'm actually really excited about it. Last year, I had the absolute most crappiest birthday of my life. Money was tight at the Department of the Treasury (irony of all ironies) and about half of my coworkers were hours away from needing to find new jobs. Survival of the fittest was reigning supreme and my self-absorbed colleagues forget to purcahse the expected "birthday cupcakes" that every single other one of my coworkers had received on their special day. The first happy birthday wish I received from these "friends" was at 4:50, ten minutes to closing.

I sat in my car during lunch and cried.

Then, after that misery, I went to work my second job without even eating dinner. (Can you hear the fiddle playing in the background--this day was pathetic!) The day ended by coming home to a dark house in a city of strangers.

So, I don't care what I do this year on my birthday--be it something or nothing. Going through all of that craziness last year has made me eternally grateful for the new things in my life this year: a church to belong to, a job to get excited about, a graduate program that suits me, and friends and family close by. That's all the birthday I need. And believe me, that's a big sign that some maturing has been going on over the past few years of my life.

As a little symbol of my leap from 23 to 24, I got myself a new email address with my "big" name, Catharine L. Moore. Now I can look more like the official adult that I'm supposed to be....but only when the circumstances require it. I may be maturing but I am still far from being mature, as those of you that know me well will heartily attest to!