Thirty

by syaffolee

I really don’t feel any different today than I did yesterday.

Most people my age have turned into Respectable and Responsible Adults.  They have spouses, kids, mortgages, work, and PTA meetings.  Heck, there are a lot of people who are younger than I am who might be considered more grown-up than me.  While I grumble like the cranky old person whenever I encounter college kiddies–let alone high schoolers–I don’t feel like I can relate to people who are my age, either.  There are some days when I think this is a Good Thing.  And then there are other days when I wonder how the heck my life veered off track into Supposed Loserdom.

I honestly do not know where my life’s trajectory will take me.  I mean, sure, there are these short term goals like eventually finishing school–but after that, who knows.  But whatever it is, will it ever involve turning me into the Traditional Adult?  My inner self tells me, I sincerely hope not.  But if I’m not a Traditional Adult, what am I anyway?

At the moment, I’m pretty ambivalent about turning thirty.  There’s this fear that since I haven’t done a variety of things in my twenties, I will end up never doing them.  Then again, I also feel that I can officially call myself a Cranky Old Person and do whatever damn thing I want without much care about what others will think of me.

Geez, thirty.  It’s not so much getting old as not getting anything accomplished or fulfilling imaginary expectations.  I feel like I’ve contributed nothing to society and that my entire life up til now has consisted of nothing but silly tasks that go nowhere.

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