Let's pretend I can still say "early twenties"...

So this is it, my big birthday weekend is over and I have to say it wasn't nearly as horrible as I'd made it up to be in my mind. I had a great time and everything turned out great.

This is, not only my first birthday away from home, but my first special event that I don't get to spend with my family and close friends. I've been lucky enough and Js has been able to come home for all my birthdays so far (Even if it meant him not sleeping for over 48 hours and involving a 6 hour bus ride.) but this one was just totally out of the question for us. With him in Cornwall on course and me out here, trying to find work and getting settled, there was no way either of us could travel the distance for a short weekend.

Needless to say, knowing this far enough in advance, I'd envisioned my birthday to be a painful day-long torture of tears and sadness. *drama* I knew I was going to miss my family the most that day and I knew it would be hard for my parents to since I wasn't at home to celebrate with them. Overall, it was good. I spent the entire weekend with friends and not by my sad, sad lonesome as I envisioned.

I got a gazillion packages and cards on Friday but couldn't wait until Saturday to open them so I did. It put me in a great mood and then I went over to a friends house for dinner and some partying. The food was good and they even got me a cake! I felt so spoiled! We went out and got totally trashed (Classy, I know!) but the night was great. I went to bed that night feeling (although immensely intoxicated) happy and very satisfied with the evening.

When I woke up the next morning, it was a completely different story. It's like my body did a 180 and said "Eff you, Youth!" I could barely drag my sorry arse to the washroom and splash some cold water on my face. The day was excruciating. It took me a good 2 hours to be able to find/retrieve my phone and then another hour to muster enough energy to return my 4 missed calls from family wanting to wish me a happy birthday. I crawled around the house all day, drank a lot of fluids and avoiding any sudden movements.

I went to bed thinking "I'm still young! I can still party! Oh yeah!" and woke up thinking "Why do I feel like I drank an entire bucket of hot sauce?"

Then, I figured it out. This is what if feels like to go from "early twenties" to "late twenties". Good to know!