The hell?

This feels a tad cliched. I'm not being original or definitive or any other good adjective. But I don't care.

Because...I'm turning thirty in three and a half months.

What the motherfucking hell?

I'm still a veritable embryo and I'm going to be in my third decade?

Well, that's just unfair.

And it's not that I'm tearing out my hair, wailing and considering Botox (though I do have the beginnings of these two vertical (frown?) lines between my eyebrows. But I've had those since I was 18. Thanks, Mama!). It's just...just....really?

I'm still in school (graduate school, but Goddamnit, it's still school), still not married or with child or post-with child. Still haven't figured out what it's all about (though I've got a pretty good handle on who I am. Well, today I do. We'll see about tomorrow.). Only just stopped wearing my hair in pigtails and am not okay with only being carded sporadically.

Wah.

But that's what this is all about. Next three months, it's you, me and the internet at large. Let's place bets on what day the nervous breakdown happens, shall we?