Despite an agreement with my Dad to not acknowledge our birthdays this year, I have come to terms with the fact that today is the last day I'll be able to say (truthfully anyway) that I'm "in my twenties". Sorry Dad, but I realized that not acknowledging my birthday meant no one else acknowledging my birthday which meant no presents and no special treats. And I'm just not willing to give that up.
Tomorrow, I am 30. 30. THIRTY. Thirty years OLD. I suppose that means I have to be mature now and do adult type things like washing my face before falling into bed and start thinking about having babies and hanging my clothes up at the end of the day and all that crap. (One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong.) Cheese and rice. I'm not ready for this.