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Published on January 16, 2013, by in About Me.
Birthday 2012

On my 29th birthday. Little did I know what a hell of a year it would turn out to be.

As I write this, the clock in my sidebar is counting down. Four hours, forty-seven minutes, twenty-two seconds… twenty-one seconds… twenty seconds…

Counting down to the end of my 20’s.

My final hours of being 29 were pretty typical.  I woke up early to give the dog his insulin shot, went to work, came home, made dinner, watched Downton Abbey and now I’m in my PJs, ready for bed.  Nothing notable or significant happened.  No excitement, but no depression either.  I’m not sad to see my 20’s go, not the way I thought I would have been.

For a while, I was scared to turn thirty because I thought I wasn’t qualified.  To be in your thirties, don’t you need a career?  A clean house?  Wet wipes in your purse?  After all, “adults” seem so capable, so prepared.  Thirty is most undeniably adulthood, so I thought I would need to have it all figured out by now.

But the more I talk to people, the more it seems like no one has it figured out, regardless of age.  Sure, some people might be settled into careers at this age, or manage to do dishes and laundry more than once a week.  Some might even have purses equipped for any emergency (I think most of those people are mothers).  But that doesn’t mean they’re not still learning or searching for something else.  Most of those ‘adults’ I know who seem calm and capable and prepared are winging it just as much as I am.

So, I’m not scared of it.  I’m ready.  I’m even excited.  It’ll be a relief to put my 20’s behind me and see what’s next.  It’s got to be better – there’s already a lot to look forward to, the details of which I’ll reveal after my birthday.  My 30’s are going to kick some serious ass, so I’m proud to say I’ll never be the girl that celebrates her 29th birthday every year. In fact, I’d like to make it official:

FUCK OFF 20’S!  Especially you, 25 and 29, you were the worst of them all!  I’ll be glad to be done with all of you.  Take your bad choices and your awkwardness and your stupid selflessness and especially your acne, and GTFO.  In just a few hours – 4 hours, 27 minutes, 36 seconds to be precise – I get to start a new phase in my life.

And it’s going to be awesome.  (I am still allowed to use the word awesome, right?  Good.)