Pass the Depends please…

3 decades. 30 years. 10,950 days.

No matter how creative you get with the math, 30 simply isn’t 29.

As you can see Here I dealt with 28 with the deepest level of grace and modesty. There is no link for my 29th birthday as during those months total hell was breaking loose. And now we come to 30.

Needless to say I’m not happy with the latest turn of events. It’s official, as of the 19th regardless of how I say it I won’t be able to say, “I’m 20 something”. That just plain sucks. Most of the people I have relayed my current dilemma to don’t get what the big deal is, “So you’ll be thirty, what’s the problem?” Thirty for a woman, this woman anyway, is a big scary monster. By far worse than anything I could have dreamt up was stalking me, laying in wait under my bed as a small child. Nope, this is HUGE. I won’t be “in my twenties” anymore and that bothers me. To hell with growing old gracefully, unless you consider kicking, screaming, cursing and wailing “Dear God WWHHHYYYY!!!???” graceful.