Yes, on Thursday I left my innocent twenties and entered the harsh thirties. As with every birthday, I can’t really say that I feel any different than I did the day before, and I don’t feel any emotional crisis related to suddenly being 30 years old looming either.
It’s probably because on the inside of this ragged old man in his early thirties is still an innocent boy in his late twenties.
- I’m still enjoying playing video and computer games. Still, I’ve decided to sell my Xbox 360, with the Racing Wheel, all the games and all the other goodies. That logic will probably be explained in a later post.
- Getting kids is still a very distant idea.
- I don’t want to buy a motorcycle yet. But maybe that’s what men do when they get to 40, not 30.
- Marriage is right up there with the whole kids thing.
- Politicians still confuse me.
That said, there are some signs that a grumpy old man in his eighties is also trapped inside of me.
- People who can’t write and talk properly annoys me. Of course I can live with the odd grammar and syntax error – if I could not, I would have had to perform Hara-kiri a long time ago. I can also accept that when you’re drunk it’s hard to talk.
- If you bicycle in the wrong direction of the road I want to strike you down with my cane.
- I’m getting grey hairs.
So all of you who are worried about leaving the safe twenties; it’s nothing to worry about.