As the seconds and minutes of February 1st tick away, I edge ever closer to that threshold to the “wrong side of 30,” which I cross at midnight. February 2nd is my birthday, and I will be 36. Closer to 40 than 20.
Ten years ago, when faced with a similar, though younger, reality, I was really upset. There I was, closer to my 30s than my teens, my finger slipping ever father from the pulse of coolness. I had a college degree, yet no discernible use to which I had put that degree. I was again living with my parents. I was losing the good parts of youth without getting the benefits of age.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 