Turning 30
A month ago, the idea of turning thirty was no more real to me that it was when I was twelve years old. Today at work the subject of the coming month's birthday luncheon arose. I'm one of the honorees. So, in effect, the first celebration of my milestone birthday is going to be at 11:30am Monday at our office in Tulsa. Just like that, the party's over. All of a sudden it hit me. Thirty. Three-zero. Oh, shit. Until now I thought everyone's angst over such things was all part of some kind of global running joke. I didn't think 30th (or 40th, 50th, etc) birthdays were a big deal. I am sitting down at my keyboard today to say:
I was wrong.
Thirty. I... I just don't know what to say. Thirty. Oh... my... god. I can't be turning thirty. Me? I'm not a day over 25, if that. More like 14 on most days. I can't be 30. I can't. Other people are 30. Not me. not me...