I have always felt mostly neutral about my birthday. I was never particularly excited about the idea of turning a year older or even the prospect of eating as much chocolate cake as I want. Maybe I felt differently when I was a kid, but I just can’t seem to remember.
But I digress. While I’ve always felt so-so bordering on meh whenever my birthday hits the calendar, I was honestly not looking forward to turning twenty-three (23) this year. In fact, I’d say that I was genuinely dreading the thought — or more specifically, the inevitability — that I was turning twenty-three today.