Well, I had my birthday on Sunday. It was a good day for me, but overshadowed by the fact that I’m now closer to 30 than I am to 20. I mean, I know I was since I turned 25 years and 1 day old, but now I have a whole number to look at which will remind me of this every time. “Red” is 22, her sister is 16, our refugee is 19… that makes me the old lady of the household, which only kinda serves to compound the reality of it.
I wonder if I’ll be one of those people who’ll just totally freak out when 30 arrives? Granted, I still have time before I get to that point, but turning 25 and realizing I was halfway through my 20s at that point was a rather somber realization for me, and now I’m one year past that, which means I’m more than halfway there now.
I don’t understand why I (or people in general) are so prone to being afraid of 30, but trying to evaluate it doesn’t make it less ominous when I see it on the horizon.