The shift from very late to very early happens at 4:30am, a moment not to take lightly if still awake.

In the midst of packing up the past five years, it finally dawned on me. Being 27 meant that I’m officially closer to thirty than to twenty. Rewind. Closer to thirty than to twenty. Stop.

Marriage. Babies. Arthritis. Husband. Wife. Mortgage. Playdates. Dinner parties. 

Rational Robyn understands that this particular life of happiness is a beautiful one for those who want and try by all means to obtain it. It’s just not the one I see for myself in the foreseeable future and that should be okay.

Irrational Robyn? Panicked.

The realization hit me hard (three-eighths life crisis, anyone?) and is probably the sole reason I whipped out my laptop and blindly typed with nothing but the glow of the screen in my face. No turning back.

After all, closer to thirty meant not wearing certain things, not longboarding, not eating stale food, not owning a couch that would just sit in storage. It was this exact laundry list that led to my decision to part ways with furniture, clothes, books, childhood toys and 8th grade love notes.

It meant purging your life when it needed purging, letting go of the past and trying to live as minimalistic as possible. That life of happiness will come in time but for now, I must pass these beloved items on to others so they can enjoy what I once did.

Being a close-to-thirty adult and the sheer panic it brought, if only for one night, produced my very first Craigslist ad, “The Date Rape Couch“*.

Three litto matching peas in a pod.

“Bring on the creepos, I’m stoked!” would have been something normally said but since I’m close-to-thirty and all, I’ll just go with a very Miami, “Dale!”

*Had to update the name of the listing because it got flagged and removed when the title was “The Date Rape Couch”. Ha.