Man, I’ve made a big deal about turning 30. When I was 16, I
thought that by 30, I would be married with kids, a home, a dog and probably
some debt. We all thought that, didn’t we? Either that or I would be living in some European
city with a high powered magazine job, wearing Prada heels and sipping on
champagne. Just me? Ok.
Well here I am. Light years away from either of those ideas
I put in my head and never shook off. But this is where I am, right here. What
I do have is two arms and two legs and ten fingers and ten toes. I can walk to
the kitchen. I can see my computer screen. I have a little bit of money that,
even though I should be spending it on adult things like curtains and bonds and
paying off university fees, I use most of it for eating at restaurants and
buying wine. And with the rest of it, I am going to go on a holiday I don’t
really need, but I want. So I will go.
Right now, I have no one to look after besides myself. I can
go anywhere and do anything. I can be selfish and this is probably the last time
I can be selfish until my kids leave home, if I ever have any.
So, I am not going to sit here and reflect on my 20s
because, goddammit, I’ve had some flipping weird times that I am happy to not
look back on. And when you can’t look back, the only thing you can do is look
forward. So here’s to the things that might or might not happen. New careers,
marriage, children, relocation. Who knows, none of these or ALL of these could
happen in my 30s. How mad is that?! I am quite excited over the fact that I
still am yet to meet my partner (cheese I know), see the world, work my way up.
It’s not all bills and admin and break ups and stuff. There is good shit in
there too.
Everyone has told me that when you’re in your 30s, you just
care less, but in a good way, and damn – that sounds good! So I'm going to celebrate in the most mature way possible - by dancing on a table and drinking champagne out the bottle because I can.
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