On getting older and not being miserable about it.
This year was the first year ever I haven’t had the pre-birthday misery and craziness I’ve grown accustomed to. I’ve been on a sort of happy streak for months and months now, ( I think a lot of this is down to getting a certain person out of my system ) and suddenly nothing is as bad as it once was.
Anyway, my point is. Being in my thirties is actually awesome and definitely not worth the time dreading it that I devoted being 29 to. I like being able to fuck around on my own terms and being a little bit wiser than before. I like knowing myself better and having actually accomplished some of the shit I one day hoped I would. I love having less friends but better relationships with all of them, I love that I love punk rock more than ever and it looks set to stay this way for life, and mostly I like that now I can recognise a bad day as a bad day and not the start to some miserable pattern.
This isn’t so much supposed to be a giant pat on the back to me for surviving the first year of my thirties as it is meant for any of you who find yourselves in a similar boat to me in your late twenties. Like Coupland (the wisest man I’ve ever encountered) said, your twenties are like a car wreck…
Anyhow, enough self indulgent bullshit from me, you know how anniversaries make me.
I just like that I got to watch Jaws with my nearest and dearest in the end. Oh, and that Jess made Jawbreaker cupcakes. Oh, and that I got the worlds most awesome email.