When you’re 30, like I turned today, you’re officially old enough to look at other eras of your life and talk about yourself in the third person.
I’m not a raging moron who did those self indulgent stupid things. That guy who looked, acted, walked and talked like me did. He’s the fool. Not me.
Ahhhh, freedom. Kind of.
You get to dissasociate a little bit with the moments you’re not so proud of. The moments your parents still haven’t been told about. I think 40 seems like a good age to really air out that laundry…..maybe.
When you’re 30 there’s more truth to old cliches.
More appreciation for Brad Pitt not dying his gray hair.
More love for the friends who haven’t left.
More money for things you’re now aware are more meaningless than before.
More meaningless things that are actually really fun.
More stretching after sports.
More regret for not staying in piano lessons.
More time on the phone regarding things that are not enjoyable.
More taxes.
More desire for less taxes.
More awareness that the only way to get through this thing is with the help and interdependence of others. If I could go it alone, I would have already chosen that at this point.
When you’re 30 you ping pong from still being a fool to having flashes of actually being smart. But at least the flashes happen at this point.
