Thirtysomething . . . at least for now
Insert dramatic pause and/or audible gasp
All week I’ve been trying to muster up some bad feelings or dread about it, but I just can't. I'm completely unfazed. So, I'm wondering, have I finally come to accept aging as an inevitable and acceptable part of life? Have I gained some new wisdom or perspective recently?
It comes down to this my friends: I'm just really, really freaking happy that for at least one more year I am still an official "thirtysomething." Next year, it's a whole new ball game. The big four UH-OH. The start of a whole new decade and phase of life. The thirties - the decade in which I became a homeowner, got married and had children - will be in my past.
OK, so maybe I'm not feeling so fine after all?