I just about an hour, I will officially be 27.

Somehow, 27 seems much, much older than did 26—it’s that much closer to 30 (which, thanks to Lindsay, I am totally looking forward to!)—but it’s not really.

It’s been a bit of a crazy year: I went from doing well to a crazy flare and back again; I went from hating my job and actively looking for something else to getting promoted and turning down other opportunities; the mister and I celebrated three years of marriage; and I’m coming up on about 13 or so years with psoriasis and 7 years with psoriatic arthritis.

Today, though, I’m not thinking about any of that. I’m just enjoying time with the mister and my in-laws, getting a mani-pedi and some Starbucks (my relaxation fix of choice) and being grateful that I’m alive and in relatively good health.

suddenly, i’m not so young

Yes, that’s right. It’s my birthday. I share this awesome occasion with a bunch of famous people, including Emily Bronte, the Govenator and fellow Canadian Tom Green.

I feel like I should write some sort of “State of the Union” type post, but I’m about to hurry off to a tasty dinner with some friends.

Still, what I’m looking forward to most about my birthday is how my husband and I will be celebrating tomorrow: with frozen yogurt for lunch! Nom nom nom. And yes, those are delicious blackberries and M&M’s as toppings.

So, happy birthday to me!