Yesterday was my 21st birthday. I got lots of cards which said, “don’t get too drunk” — every time I told someone I don’t drink alcohol, they must have thought I was joking. Sigh.
I’m 21 years old and I feel strangely optimistic about the future. I’m sure I’ll be back to melancholy cynicism soon enough, but for now, life is great.
When I got home my two-year-old nephew was there. As soon as he saw me, a huge smile spread across his face and, completely unprompted, he ran over and gave me a hug.
With people like that in my life, I don’t need anything else.