Sturdy Thirty

I am now 30 years old.

I’m just surprised I didn’t suffer from birthday depression, although it seems like I haven’t had a proper birthday depression episode since I started writing this blog 5 days a week. So that’s nice.

My life is actually crazier now than it was at the end of the year when I was business crying all over this motherfucker. Lots of things are happening. Loud noises, fast moves, all of it.

I’m attacking my problems with renewed vigor and energy, and I have several plans in the works. No doubt most of them will fail, and I’ll be right back to tears and the rending of mousepads. But, like Doctor Who says: I should be happy now. Because, of course, I shall be sad later.

I hear your thirties are a much more calm time. I wonder what that’s like. It sounds nice.