There are days when I feel old. I had pretty much gotten used to being 30 and gaining another year didn’t seem like a big deal. Going from your 20s to your 30s seems like a big deal. Ending the first year of your third decade shouldn’t affect you as much. Oddly though, filling out 31 as my age on various and sundry surveys and the like is bugging me.
Maybe it’s just that I’m sick, it’s colder than Jesse Ventura at a gay bar outside and it’s the dad-blasted holidays.
What a weird week-end. The week to come holds the promise of innumerable peculiarities.