I don’t get to blog as much as I should. I started blogging when I was 12-years-old, right after I built my first ungodly Geocities website, complete with hundreds of animated gifs. I wrote the HTML code meticulously by hand and kept a journal on the website. Back then, there was no term for it, though now “blog” has become a well-known word.

I turned 29 last week. I’ll be 30 next year, and although a lot of people see it as a pivotal birthday, I don’t harbour any feelings of nostalgia over my impending birthday marking three decades on earth. I’m 29. I am in the process of a divorce. I am a parent to two children who both live with me ninety-some-odd percent of the time. I work as a nurse, a traffic control person, and an occupational first aid attendant. I have more debt than I care to admit to. I’ve lived and am living a very busy life and none of that will change because of a birthday.

I haven’t sat down to write about myself in a while, so I just kind of felt like pouring out some random text. I rarely sit at my computer any more, especially since my laptop died a few months ago.

In June, I moved into a new place where I now live with a room mate and his daughter whom he has fifty percent of the time. He and his girlfriend are awesome people and I enjoy hanging out with them. The house is set up in such a way that we both have our own personal space so the kids and ourselves aren’t overwhelmed with the shared space.

I also have a boyfriend who is just amazing. Kind, attentive, and a good person. A really good person. Genuine.

I’m in a happy place.