So, it’s nearly here. The day I have been dreading. Tomorrow morning I will awaken, no longer in my twenties. I will be 30 years old.

It’s a terrifying age to be. All prior landmark birthdays are cause to celebrate because we spend so many years wishing to be older and now I reach the first where I wish I was young. At least when you hit 40 you should be well prepared for Death’s cold hand reaching for your shoulder for that really is the end of all things (see blog ten years from now for info).

Anyway, I have spent my day looking for reasons turning 30 is a good thing and I can find very little apart from unencouraging shite such as ‘you are an adult’ and ‘you can start living now’. Thanks, here’s me thinking I was a dead child. Continue reading “It’s My Party And I’ll Throw Faeces If I Want To”