30 called, they want their age back.
I don’t know why I’ve had such a hard time coming to terms with turning 30. I’ve suspected for a long time my 30s would be full of more love, more financial stability, more ah-ha moments, and more parenting bliss. Along with that wish list I hoped my 30s would leave out some of the partying, unplanned pregnancies, and bounced checks my 20s included. Even with the knowledge that my 30s are going to be better, there is something terrifying about crossing that numerical threshold. Something that makes you examine every decision you’ve made in your previous 29 years of life and make a bitter beer face. It’s your own personal judgement day, and no decision will go unpunished.
30 got off to a pretty good start. 30 seemed to fit me pretty well. I thought I looked pretty good in 30 until someone informed me I was only wearing one earring.
Oops. Well, that could happen to anyone, right? Shamefully, in my 20s I actually wore one earring on purpose even. So I traced my steps back to my car, opened the car door and sat down. You know those weird days when someone puts a bunch of stuff that doesn’t belong to you in your car and cleans all your junk out of it? Turns out that doesn’t actually happen. It means you’re sitting in someone else’s car, looking for your lost earring that you’re not young enough to go without.
This could also happen to someone in their 20s. Last year I not only got into someone else’s car, but I also tried to drive it off. So no biggie.
It also happens that sometimes people get on the wrong freeway entrance and drive East instead of West when they’re trying to go home. The same home they go to everyday. Usually it doesn’t happen twice, in the same day, back-to-back… But still, it happens.
And when I fell asleep before my flight even took off and slept soundly until it landed, I’m certain it had nothing to do with my age. A 9pm flight is kinda late! However I got to Spokane ready to party! Ready to celebrate this new decade of my life! Or, ready to have two drinks and pass out on my friend’s floor at 11:30.
So I tried 30 on and I’m just not sure it fits. If it does fit, it looks like a pair of beat up, dingy sweatpants.
I’m anxious for all the amazingness my 30s are bringing me, I just hope I can stay awake long enough to witness it.
(side note, by birthday was actually amazing. Thank you to all of it who made it so!!)
PFFFTH… build a bridge and get over it. You’ll rock 30 even harder than you rocked 20.
You make a pair of beat up, dingy sweatpants look DAMMMMMMn sexy, Megan, even if there is crusty sleep in your eyes when you wake up.