I don’t really have much desire to make the age of 30 any more or less dramatic than it is. If you know me, you’d know that I have been in my 30s for several years since I have been mentally ahead of my actual age since the age of… 7. I suppose this is my ode to reality (a la “Inception”) since the milestone (is it really a milestone?) is coming in a couple of weeks and people have been asking what I’m going to do to celebrate. And I’m supposed to ring it in with a big bang, apparently.
For the record, no gongs will sound.
Here’s the irony. I look like I can still pass for a junior high schooler (unless you look into my eyes, which will tell you a whole different story) and in terms of my livelihood, I feel more young than I have in my whole life. I wish social boundaries of age would disintegrate cuz I’m just plain sick of them. Yeah, I do feel a little more tired than I used to, and my body definitely is not what it used to be. I can’t eat as much as I want to and expect my belly to stay trim… and I feel like puking if I eat greasy foods too many times in a row. 30 isn’t old (and don’t even say that it is, cuz it sounds ridiculous when you say it to people in their 50s, 60s and 70s), but it’s not the same as 20 or even 25.
I think I’m just babbling. Old age?
I thought I’d have definitive thoughts to share about where I am in life at this point, but nothing concrete is coming to me at the moment. But I do plan on writing about my reflections on life thus far in the coming days. But then again, you know what Sarah said (or Ben, actually):
Every plan is a tiny prayer to father time.