Dirty Thirty

So in about 15 minutes, I turn 30.

I've been getting asked, over and over, how I feel about it - and I'm absolutely fine with it. I've got a good job, which I genuinely enjoy and which pays decently, and challenges and excites me. I've got great friends, some of whom I don't see often enough, but we all try, and we all understand that we're busy. I've got a wonderful man, whom I'll be marrying later this year. Sure, I haven't managed to get on the property ladder yet, but living in London that's not a possibility for most people, and aside from that, I'm doing ok financially - I have savings, I can go on the odd holiday and indulge my passions for good beauty products, holidays and theatre. I'm healthier and fitter than I've been in years. I feel content and calm.

I LOVED uni - and many of my aforementioned friends were made there - but you couldn't pay me to be 20 again.

So what have I done with the last day of my twenties? I got up early. I went to work. I had a salad for lunch. I came home and worked out. I had a bath. Ate a healthy meal, featuring one of my absolute favourite foods - flower sprouts (yes really). I watched House of Cards. I wrote a few overdue blog posts. And I'll be in bed about midnight, in time to get a good 7 hours of beauty sleep.

I'm ready to be 30. But I'm not a total dullard - I'll get to eat, drink, and misbehave all weekend.

BRING IT ON!

Ax