Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. 30. Birthdays are surprisingly punctual. Same time every year. This year was just fine. All the birthday staples were available- cake, gifts… etc. I am getting closer and closer to the age that doesn’t look at a birthday and say,”Another year older! Joy!”

No, I am starting to think,”Another year older? Oh damn.”

But, every year I get a little wiser. Every year it gets harder for me to stay up late. Every year I look at younger people more and worry about the state of this country. Every year I wish a little more that the music would be turned down just a bit more. Every year, I wonder more about a 401k, and why I need to diversify a stock portfolio. I don’t go out near as much as I once did. I can’t stay up for 24 hours straight, go to work, come home and stay up till 4am. It’s not in my body to accomplish such a feat. A feat unheard of in the 30’s crowd (so I’d imagine).

I am turning more and more into a responsible adult. Something I told myself (at the mature age of 17) that I would never become. “I’m going to never change!” I would exclaim.

Things change. Growing old is inevitable. I am growing more comfortable with the process. When I turn 40, I am sure I will have things to say about getting even older. I will talk about aches and pains… hair in places that should not have hair… and the like.

Maybe what I should be saying is,”Another year older? Bring it.”