Somehow, this year, I've felt no such glee approaching my 32nd birthday. Alright, so people still drop their jaws in horror to find out I'm actually over 30. "No!" they exclaim, their mouths large with an O. So I hang out with younger folk and stay religiously out of the sun. I maintain my childhood playfulness, having not being repressed by endless classes and tuitions since the age of 2.
But there is an inherent tiredness that comes with being over 30: your stamina isn't so good anymore, 21 year old guys look like children, at midnight your eyelids involuntarily close a millimetre a minute, you forget things, your tolerance goes way down, and you start wondering what would give you meaning in life...
Oh hang on, that's just me.
I do things that mean more to me these days: I hang out with people I like and don't waste time on the people I don't, I spend more time with my cats and folks, I read more, I watch telly more, I shop more, I eat what I like more. I think I simply treasure what I love more and I most certainly cherish life more.
Last night my Dad and I went for a nice sushi dinner and then shopped for chocolates. I picked two metal dollhouses I liked while telling the smiling chocolate shop lady that the last time my Dad had bought me dollhouses was some 30 years ago. Dad insisted on paying for them. And then I say, hey give them to me for my birthday. He smiled. Maybe birthdays aren't so bad after all. I still have presents to look forward to. :D