Over the last couple of days I've come to a realisation of why I am dreading tomorrow so much.
For me, being 24 signifies the beginning of a ticking clock - I guess that's the only way I can put it, as cliché as it sounds.
I'll point out at this point, for those who don't know me so well, that I have NEVER been the type to want to settle down, get married, have kids and all that jazz. I've always wanted to put myself first and be a "career girl". And I've managed it quite well.
But 24 has always been the age that I suppose I set in the back of my mind as being the limit. It's not as if I randomly picked that number out of the sky either.
My mum and dad married when they were 19 and 20. My mum, always responsible, wanted to ensure they were comfortable financially and emotionally before they began starting a family. And she fell pregnant with me when she was 24.
Part of me, the irrational part is now thinking I need to hurry myself up and get my arse into gear, settle down, start a family before it's too late.
And the rational part of me knows that is ridiculous and times are different now, and I could quite easily wait until my 30's to start shooting out sprogs. But Miss Irrational still likes to put in her opinion on the matter when I start justifying to myself.
So forgive me if I'm not bouncing off the walls because it's my birthday tomorrow. I'm arguing with myself.