Well, I’m officially 30 years old. There are about a million things that I haven’t accomplished, but all-in-all I can say, I’m pretty happy with where I’m at.
You know, it could have been a terrible weekend. For starters, I’m officially old. Then, my awesome boss tells my officially-old-self that I have to work on my officially-old birthday. You know what, though… it didn’t matter.
I may have spent my actual birthday in the office, but my friends and family surprised me with flowers, cake, balloons and a ridiculously decorated cubicle. My incredible hunk of a husband took me to a gourmet dinner at Dominique’s on Magazine that rocked my world. And just when it couldn’t get any better, my dearest of dear friends, Deepak, planned a Sunday birthday brunch for the ages. 30 of my besties piled into the private dining room at Cafe Amelie, which he and my neighbor Whitney decked out with confetti, balloons and fresh flowers.
I may be 30 years old this weekend, but I can honestly say, I’m the luckiest officially-old-30-year-old I know.