I’m turning 30 this July. I’m surprised I’m not fussing about it like I thought I would. I guess it made little difference by the time I was 27, it just didn’t feel any different after that. It feels liberating, sort of but not quite. My friend says I’ll love being 40. I cannot wait, actually!
Only I will be reminded when I fill up forms, or when people ask for my age because I am not married yet, or that I look ridiculously immature for my age. Right now I am acting poorly but hiding it well. I’m jealous and insecure again. The “friend” is in town for the weekend. Isn’t that great? Actually, it really is even though I meant for it to be sarcastic. I’m glad GH will get a break from school and the “friend” knows how much she loves basketball so she took her to a game tonight, and then dinner date. Tomorrow is for gambling, relaxing. I should just shut up right now and be happy for them. Her. Whatever.