Next week I’ll be 31. And the measurement of time can force a person to ask themselves a few questions. Am I a respectable adult or an overgrown idiot? Why did I learn all that math back in high school when the only equation I ever have to solve is a simple matter of bank balance minus mortgage payment? What if I’d been switched at birth and raised by a traveling circus or fundamental Christians?
Life. People have often said I act older than my age. Quite flattering when I was younger aspiring to be older, I worry now that on the verge of 31 my perceived age must be somewhere around 55. Which makes me wonder whether I should’ve enjoyed my REAL age more while I was living it.
So this is it so far. I’ve lived a few places. I’ve seen a few things. I married an amazing person and managed to adopt a really cool dog. I know how to hang a set of blinds and put up a light fixture. And even though I have more bicycles than one person should own, I guess I turned out to be a fairly well adjusted individual. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering what I’d like for my birthday, this might be a good place to start.