One Step Closer To The Big 3-0

Tomorrow, sometime around dinner time, I will officially turn 29 years old. At that point in time, the count down begins to the big 3-0. Yes, I realize I still have all of my 29th year to live, but really who cares about that?

I don't know if it's a big deal for most dudes, but I'm pretty sure it's a big deal for most girls to turn 30. When that day comes (a year and a day from now) my plan is to cheer (Whoo hoo, 30 is officially an adult!) and cry (Boo hoo, 30 is officially the death of childhood!) at the same time.

In the meantime, I intend to ignore the fact that 30 is creeping up on me. I plan to shove my fingers in my ears and sing "la, la, la, la, la" so that I do not remind myself that I have yet to accomplish all the things that my 10-year-old self set out to do by age 20. 'Cause really, who needs that kind of pressure anyway?

I hope to enjoy year 29 as much as I have the previous 28 years. I will not consider how old I've gotten (or how fat). Nor will I ponder how much longer I have to live on this Earth (or how many more year's I'll have to keep working. That's even more depressing than thinking about death).

Instead, I will take each day as it comes and hope for the best . . . like a knock on the door from Publisher's Clearinghouse or meeting my very own billionaire sugar daddy in line at McDonalds. Aren't those quite possibly the best things to hope for?