I’ve wanted to be thirty my entire life. I remember watching Big when I was 6 or 7 and being soooo jealous. I just wanted to skip right to that part. Where I was getting paid to do something cool and still living the dreams of a kid.
Thirty meant finally being able to buy a pinball machine and turning the basement into a laser tag fortress. I couldn’t wait. I’d be sipping coffee and talking about the stock market during the day and then firing bb guns at plates in the kitchen at night.
"PLATES?! WHO NEEDS PLATES!"
Well now it’s actually here. I’m turning thirty today. And in the years in between then and now, I’ve started paying bills and accumulating debt. I’ve had loved ones pass away. I’ve been stuck in traffic and worked weekends. I’ve heard people worry — about everything.
And I see why growing up is so easy and so hard at the same time. I understand how tempting it is to let that age you. But I want state for the record that it doesn’t have to.
My six year-old self would be happy to know that I got a lock-picking set for Christmas, bought a sheesh-ton of pickles at the store the other day, and have no less than 4 pocket knives. I’m learning how to play the ukelele, I wear the same shirt almost every day, and tonight we’re going out for pizza.
Turning thirty is totally what you make of it.
So to you, little T, I say good news… thirty is here, and you were right; it’s freaking awesome.