Last year on my 25th birthday my mother asked me if I felt old. That is, she was asking if I felt there was anything I wanted from my first quarter-century of life that remained unaccomplished.
I told her no. I had a job, I had a girlfriend, I was happy.
Today I turn 26. My girlfriend started cheating on me last fall and before Christmas, we broke up. I still have the job, but I'm getting restless; the ambition I guess I thought I had quashed has reawakened. And I ran out of Wellbutrin a few weeks ago and am no longer happy.
On the other hand, in the past year I had surgery to take care of my ileitis and I learned to like green tea.