This side of 25:
I google searched “blowing my nose to no avail” which was a pretty weird way to phrase “what should I take for a runny nose?”
Then I drafted a text to my mom, thought about sending it, didn’t, sneezed, then sent it after all. “I realize I’m supposed to be 25 about this but the reality is I want mom and soup.”
I then told her I’d be fine. That I was just being dramatic. What I didn’t tell her is that I hadn’t slept a wink since turning 25 four days ago. And that I cried in a very busy, populated Walgreens this morning.
How do I feel about this? Embarrassed. Truly. It’s a little outrageous.
But in that moment, touch screens were hard to navigate, waiting in line proved torturous, and my eyes were pink, puffy, itchy and crusty. (Sorry, ew, gross, I know.)
“Allergies, you idiot!” The nurse practitioner said and didn’t say. Part of me was disappointed. I thought surely I must be dying. I begged her for prescription eye drops. She started talking about over-the-counter eye drops. Then I bullied her for prescription eye drops.
I wiped away tears and lingering snot. Bah humbug. Happy birthday. $80 eye drops.
This side of 25:
I woke up and saw the world through a whole new set of eyes—well, actually one eye. Because the other one was glued shut by, idk, let’s just call it allergies! But isn’t it great that I can see at all!?
It is great. Because I saw and read a letter. It made me really happy simply because mail is the best. The letter went like this:
“Can you believe you’ve been around this earth for 25 whole years? Think about how many books you’ve read, people you’ve met, miles you’ve walked…how many outcomes you’ve attributed to luck, coincidence, fate…It’s incredible to think how much can happen in a day, week, or year. But a quarter of a century is truly humbling...take a moment to remember the things/people that have made your 25 years of being worth every second.”
And to that I said WOW. Because here I am, seeing 25, when some people don’t get to. I know there are many countless people I should thank, but to start it off this one goes out to the nurse practitioner at Walgreens. I’m sorry I bullied you this morning. Thank you for the eye drops.
Thank you mom. For understanding that symptoms like runny noses and melodrama go hand in hand.
Thank you to my six friends who surrounded me for a meal. It’s hard to gather a group of six friends. I do not take that for granted.
Thank you, Drew for sending flowers to my office. The lavender kind—both a smell and a color that I really enjoy. Thank you also for the Rib-eye. My mind’s eye/stink eye surely did not deserve that. With mint pomegranate relish on top.
Thank you to friends, near and far, who reached out with well wishes.
Thank you to the friend who wrote this letter. It was enough to kick me out of a pretty annoying, self-absorbed slump.
So with a humble and thankful heart, I lift my bottle of Dayquil to all and say ‘here’s to getting better.’
In all senses of the word, better. Because another year is not a right, but a privilege. And I should be sure to bring my best side out to live it.