I finally realize the meaning of that old cliché: “I’m too young to be this old.” I swear I was just twenty-one a minute ago.
I (semi) joke to my husband that I missed the full effect of my 30th milestone because I was busy going into labor (our older daughter’s birthday is the next day). Therefore, it feels like the last two decades just came plowing into me at once.
But overall, I feel pretty darn good. The platelet count is holding steady. I have an amazing family. And, despite the last year of less-than-stellar industry-wide mojo, I’m doing my dream job. Not bad.
Still, I really thought I was above the whole getting older nonsense; alas, I’m not immune. Short of acquiring a convertible and a 20-year-old blonde floozy-on-the-side (Sven), I’m happy to play it low-key. As usual, I’m satisfied to document the whole thought process in this week’s strips.
If you’re turning the big fuh, fuh, fuh this year as well, I hope the series resounds well with you. If you’re still enjoying the glow of youth…well, get over it. It’ll be your turn, too.