It’s the 2 month count-down to my birthday. The first big birthday most people would rather not celebrate. The big three oh no, but here I am, at the cusp of the end of my twenties (it sounds better this way). Ironically this somewhat bitter sweet celebration comes with several unexpected joys. This must be the first birthday where I can celebrate the accomplishment of not one, but three goals. We know this is what I’ve been harping on about all year, so here it is…

GOAL no.1: Not weighing what I weigh

I’ve lost 10kgs! It took me well over a year to do. I’ve wedged myself into home stretched T-shirts all this time, so we’re not buying new clothes yet, but the fact remains.

GOAL no.2: Moving into my own place

I’ve finally moved out of my dad’s place and I’m sharing the most adorable little house with two endearing friends and while I try to watch TV, I’m distracted by a gutsy robin stealing glances at me from our gorgeous little garden.

GOAL no.3: Getting Mobile

It’s somewhat embarrassing to admit, but I’ve never been able to pass my driving test. I’ve gone several times, spent literally thousands of rands going for lessons and making new appointments and rewriting the theoretical test and finally, after much prayer, lots of dramatic crying sessions and several freaked out paranoid rages, I passed the test last week. The only thing worse than not having it so far, would have been passing through my milestone birthday without it.

So, Mr Birthday, you aging, condemning, tongue wagging old fart. Bring it! I’ll drive to faraway places shopping for exciting ingredients and throw garden parties with my amazing, loving sisters in my skinny date-night dress to celebrate the anticipation of further victories.