365 days....minus 7

One of my biggest fears is looking back on any period of time and realising that I did nothing. This is the reason I hate being hangover, wake up at 5am, read on trains and often have lunch while at my desk. Life rushes past all of us, and we all try to stop and smell the roses blah blah, but sometimes, I think that’s just an excuse for laziness extraordinaire. The greatest link to memory is the sense of smell, which suggests that the rosy scent won’t be forgotten any time soon, ergo, no need for constant stopping and smelling.

Either way, it was my birthday last week. I woke up with the dreaded ‘what the hell will I wear’ thought. You know, the perfect outfit that says ‘year older, but still effortlessly cool’. Then I was gripped with fear that there would be a lot of time in the last year that would remain unaccounted. So I did what I do best, I made a list on the train to work:

I got me a job, so I can say on the train to work. This whole post hinged on that line (well not really, but for theatrics’ sake, we’ll pretend it did).

I learnt how to cook a good paella, a new amazing risotto, la bandiera, rare steak, and developed an appreciation for black coffee.

I have read 13 books this year. Two about India, two about Nigeria, three about heart break and love, one about the human psyche, 2 classics, 1 about politics, 1 about economics, and the one that can only be classed as putting Danielle Steele raunch in a nunnery.

I made new friends. People that I would never have met, and yet add oodles to my life (I started saying oodles, and I will stop...all within the same 12 month period). I learnt that acquaintances are alright.

I lived through riots (really really tenuously kind of).

I became an aunt. Three times. Four in fact.

I had my heart sort of broken, and put back together before it hit the ground. I’m in limbo, but it’s currently a really good place to be.

I started a blog, which while not being particularly good, made me read other people’s blogs, and that my friends, has been fantastic.

I learnt to smile, not because I had a reason to, but because once I did, the reason showed itself.

You make of life what you want it to be. I learnt to believe in the veracity of that statement, and I am so much better and wiser for it.