Turning 30

As much as it pains me to admit it, I have finally turned 30, and no amount of moisturiser or exfoliant is going to change that. One day, maybe I will accept that (you should still do it though, that’s just good sense). So I thought I would pause for a reflective moment and write a blog post that feels like it should have “Freshly Pressed” written all over it, but I’m blowed if I know how they choose. PICK ME, WORDPRESS, I CRAVE THE ATTENTION NOW I’M NOT AS CUTE AS THE YOUNGER MEN.

I’ve been keeping these outbursts inside – I guess they are inbursts. All in all though, it’s not been a bad day, and boringly I don’t feel much different. I thought I’d be more critical of my life’s achievements than I am every single other day, but I guess I’m maxed out.

It’s not going too badly, I don’t look 30. I’m determined to buy some alcohol and get ID’d this week though. I’m more well-travelled than nearly all of my immediate social circle, but what does that really mean? I have a nice set of photos surely, and some conversational subjects ready to fill up the void that most people fill with sport. Instead of travelling, everyone else seems to have settled down, perhaps got married or had kids, got a mortgage. I’m not closer to any of those things. I’m a piece of fruit withering on the vine, with no savings and no prospect of a mortgage in the near future.

Yet I’m semi-happy with things. I like the house I’m renting, and the housemate that came with it. I’ve got enough money to do the activities I want to do (just about), and I’ve got a nice small group of close friends I am finally comfortable enough with to by myself around.

Sure, there are still gaps, and I am fighting the overwhelming pressure to do what everyone else is doing. Not as a contrary Mary, but because I don’t want to give up the relative freedom I have. I’m not doing anything irresponsible. I rarely drink, never smoke or take drugs, haven’t got into debt or anything like that, and I’m even seeing results at the gym for the first time ever. All in all, I think I’m just about breaking even on the cosmic scale, and I need to stop feeling the pressure of what I should be doing in the eyes of people who think their way is the only way. It’s easier said than done.

Finally, I’m happy my blog seems to still be going well, the post-Eurovision levels are way up on pre-Eurovision levels, and I have you – the viewer – to thank for that. If you have any ideas of stuff you’d like me to do, please let me know and I’ll see if I’m up for it!

Just need to get laid now *sigh*. And so begin my “dirty thirties”, with a bit of luck.


1 Comment

Filed under Talking rubbish again

One response to “Turning 30

  1. Pingback: Turning 30 (again) | Verbal Diarrhoea

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