The Last Days of 27.

My birthday is approaching, and quickly. By the time we're done digging out from all of this snow in the greater Philadelphia area, it'll be my birthday. I am staring 28 straight in the face, and while it has the potential to truly terrify me, I am ready to shout, "Bring it on!"

And maybe it would respond something silly, like, "Oh, it's already been broughted!" (What the hell terrible movie is that from again?)

And why? What has caused me to want to make things better? Where can I start? How about my endocrinologist's appointment last Friday:

1. My doc said she'd really like to know what she can do to help me, but she feels she hasn't seen me enough to really know what to do that would be effective.

2. My labs were actually impressive, in some ways, so I had cause to celebrate. My kidneys were totally normal. My cholesterol was WAY down. Bad cholesterol was 160 a year ago, is now 106 by means of eating better and attempting a little bit more exercise. My A1c was not exactly what many of you would consider pretty. Some of you would hang your heads in shame. But you know what? It was 8.9. I was surprised with the way things have been going lately and the amount of stress I've been under. Honestly, Dr. B and I were both surprised that it was an A1c in the single digits!

Then there's work. I am happy helping the students where I work. There are many parts of my job that I don't mind, but that's just it. I'm not that excited about it anymore. I'm more frustrated in the course of a day, and my days keep getting longer and longer. When I get home, I feel exhausted, so much so that I don't necessarily do the things that I'm actually passionate about--things like blogging, writing, keeping up with the things and people that matter most to me. I've decided I want something different.

I have a student worker who assists me now at the front desk, she's 47, laid off from her job running warehousing operations, and she can't wait to get back. A very sweet woman, loudmouthed, loves her three cats like they're her own children. She may technically be below me on the work food chain, but I really respect her. One day, she was talking about how much she would love to get a job in her field again soon. "It's what I'm really passionate about," she smiled, "And honey, if you're not doing something you're passionate about, I don't know how you can get through the day."

My heart sank; it was a wake-up call. I am pretty good at being an administrative assistant, but it's nothing that I'm passionate about. I am passionate about writing, about helping people, about using my creativity to help others or tell stories. So now I feel a little stuck. Every tiny wrongdoing at work just feels like a huge blow, though the successes are still nice. I need something else. A Bachelor's in Communications, a minor in English, and for years I have been working jobs where people ask, "And how did you end up in this line of work?" The answer is that I don't know anymore.

I need something more. I need something different. I need a better A1c. I need a better career.

I'm staring 28 in the face, and hoping that me at 28 is even happier than me at 27.