This is the last full week of my 30s. Next week, the 40s start.
I approached my 30s with a great deal of dread, but a few things helped ease the transition. My friends threw a surprisingly bawdy party (bawdy by Mormon standards) that seemed to attack the concept of 30 with the same ferocity that those bare-butt guys did in that one scene in Braveheart. A few weeks later, I met Julie and didn’t care if I was 30 because I was in love.
Now it’s time to deal with 40. I’ve been assured that this year’s celebration will be far more sedate than the one thrown a decade ago. We’ll be seeing Flight of the Conchords perform, so there certainly will be some excitement. But it seems like there should be some way to mark the passing of my 30s.
As the stereotypes go, the 20s are a decade of binge drinking and trying to find your place in the world and generally being surly. While the binge drinking never materialized (see: Mormon), I did spend quite a lot of my 20s moping and having many an identity crisis. So turning 30 was supposed to signal a new phase of life where things settle down a bit and some direction in life was found. The 30th birthday party was that last gasp of irresponsibility before adulthood set in.
But how to observe 40? More importantly, is there anything I should do during these last few days of my 30s?
That’s a tough question to answer. It doesn’t really feel like there’s any “30-ish” thing to do. I guess I could get a graduate degree in something. A lot of people in their 30s do that. Perhaps I could buy a Honda.
The changeover will happen next week whether I prepare for it or, not, so I’ll have to do some brainstorming over these next few days. If you have any ideas, do let me know.
Labels: navel gazing