I'm sitting in church and perhaps about to have a nervous breakdown.
When I say I'm about to have a nervous breakdown, I actually mean it. I've never understood the concept of having an anxiety attack, or panicking under the pressure, but I'm not going to lie my palms are sweating, my heart rate has risen, I'm hyperventilating with everyone around me staring back with strange looks. I am in full freak out mode coming to the realization that in a few weeks from now, I'll be 30.
I know, it's a hard knock life.
You may chuckle to yourself and shake your head in amusement, but I'm being 100% stone cold serious. I am nearly to the point in my life where any shred of my childhood has been burned at the stake and the ashes spread out over my future funeral plot. I am becoming ancient, decrepit, a young buck turned old stag with streaks of grey starting to show.
30 means icing your knees after yoga. 30 means bedtimes before 10 pm. 30 means being banned from using emoticons in text messages. 30 means, well 30. It means you're a decade away from 40. And then a few blinks from 50. And then oh my gosh why are you throwing me a retirement party?! For the love of everything sacred please pop those balloons! 30 is the beginning of the end. And I'm a few steps away.
Time breathes down all of our necks. And for the first time in my life, for the first legitimate moment of my near triple decade existence, I'm starting to feel it. Becoming old is becoming a reality.
Can someone get me a shot of Metamucil?
Hahaha! Oh, Brock. I don't mean to belittle your worries, but being 10 months older than you (an approximation, as I don't really know when your birthday is) I can tell you that 30 is actually a pretty awesome year. At least it has been for me. Take a deep breath and dive in. It's not as bad a you think. Oh, and emoticons aren't banned from 30 year olds as long as you use the text version of them and not the animated versions. ;)
ReplyDeleteQuit being such a scrotum and man up.
ReplyDelete