I was carded at the liquor store last night. And for the first time, instead of feeling annoyed, I felt feel really good.
Guess that means I've started a new phase.
Some of my older friends may already be rolling their eyes, but in May I turn 30.
I am so excited I can hardly stand it.
Seriously! I have a friend who opined that turning 27 gave her voice a new weight to those around her, but I am so convinced of 30's gravitas that I have already begun borrowing it, months before it's mine.
When my landlord tried to be condescending: "Listen, I am 30 years old, I've rented many apartments, don't try to tell me..."
When my supervisor referred to me as "kiddo": "Who does he think he is? I'm 30 years old!"
When my face repeatedly breaks out: "What the hell? I thought zits would be over by now, I'm 30, for pete's sake!"
It's fun. I envision the 30s as the ideal decade in which I have shed the insecurities of my quarter-life crisis and have the income and stability to truly enjoy life. Is it possible to have your halcyon days ahead of you?
But yet, getting carded at the liquor store still gave me great satisfaction. "Ha," I thought to myself as I handed over my driver's license, "and I'm almost 30."