Ok, so the title of this blog post is also the title of one of my favorite books in the Laura Ingalls Wilder “Little House” series, but it’s also supposed to be the theme of this period of my life right now, right?
I’m young, I’m single, I’ve got a job I enjoy, I’m in a city I love, I’m financially stable. All good, happy, golden things right?
One year ago, as I was preparing my 25 birthdays post before I left on a trip to Germany, I wasn’t quite thinking that my life would be what it is right now. Not that I had grand plans or anything. Or maybe I did. One year ago, I thought I was going to be engaged by now, living with my boyfriend (fiance?), perhaps here in DC, perhaps somewhere else – where I wouldn’t be happy and golden. I remember at this time last year, I was convincing myself that it would work out, that things would all come together, that life was good. I remember talking to my dad on the phone in the airport lounge before my flight to Frankfurt, being reminded to take the time on my trip to reflect about what I wanted for myself in the next year.