30: Its the new 12!

I'm receiving lots of comforting words these days. Which, though appreciated, isn't necessary. You see, on Halloween I'll be turning 30. And everyone who hears this rushes to reassure me that 30 is the new 20. That I'm still young. That my 30's will be even better than my 20's (please god but they couldn't be worse), and that I still have plenty of time to do whatever it is in life I want to do.

To which I want to say: duh.

Ok, maybe not to the "30 is the new 20" thing, which I think is retarded rather than obvious, but generally speaking I feel like I already know this stuff. I feel better about myself, and my prospects than I ever have before. I'm not the least bit disappointed about leaving my 20's behind and am in all reality, looking forward to better times ahead.

So I've decided that for me, 30 is the new 12. I'm going to disregard all stereotypes about my age and go back to taking joy in simple things, speaking my mind without worrying too much about what people think, and most importantly, I'm going to resume jumping on the bed.