Quarter Century Club

wpid-2015-01-30-02.27.52-1.jpg.jpegwpid-2015-01-30-02.29.57-1.jpg.jpegwpid-2015-01-30-02.30.23-1.jpg.jpegwpid-2015-01-30-02.29.10-1.jpg.jpegwpid-2015-01-30-02.31.10-1.jpg.jpegAs it happens, today is my 25th birthday.  In the weeks and days leading up to this momentous occasion, I was busy celebrating/mourning at my own pity party.  I wasn’t feeling accomplished or worthy or any of the other strong, self-actualizing adjectives that are used to describe successful people.  I don’t particularly love my job, my love life reads like bad chick lit, and I drive a shitty car.

But then I woke up this morning and just DIDN’T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK.

So what if I don’t have the things I expected to have?  I’m going to spend the rest of my life in pursuit of whatever makes me feel fulfilled.  I’m still young, and I have plenty of time to go and figure myself out.  Plus, I have the best dog in the world, so that has to count for something.

And so the rest of my life begins here: doing something I really enjoy, and doing it all on my own.

I actually wore this outfit to work today as part of the above-mentioned “not giving a fuck” sentiment.  Who was going to stop me from wearing a party skirt to the office?  The answer, of course, is not a single goddamn soul.  I peacocked around the cubicles, feeling extremely adorable.  I went out to lunch in it and felt yet more sensational.  And I’m going to wear it out tonight on a date(?) with a gentleman caller, by which time I hope to have launched myself into the “universally recognized as perfect” phase.

Twenty-five, let’s be best friends.

Necklace: old, Forever 21

Sweater: thrifted

Skirt: Modcloth

Shoes: Modcloth

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