30-Something

So today is Monday and I couldn't decide what was a more daunting task: back to work, or back to blog?

Don't worry.  I'm not being an ungrateful snatch.  Blog was the lesser of 2 evils.  Significantly less so.  I love you mystery readers.  You come, you read, you analyze and maybe even roll your eyes.  It's awesome.  I love you.

But last weekend a mystery reader said to me "I read your blog- trust me, people read it".  What a sweetheart.  And she's gorgeous, too.  So that makes it seem all the more legit. We were out and about living the high life of us 30-somethings to celebrate the birthday of a new club member.  Some people think 30 means your officially getting old.  But I adore the 30-somethings.  We throw caution to the wind.  We live paycheck to paycheck and we enjoy it.  Yes, it gives us a near ulcer some days wondering if we couldn't cut back just a little bit more to put into savings, but that LBD on the rack at Charlotte Russe says "I'm worth it".

But it's Charlotte Russe and not Chanel so we justify that savings to make ourselves think we are living financially responsibly.  We take good care of ourselves.  Well, most days anyway.  I would be lying if I said I frequented the gym and watched what I ate.  The closest thing to cardio and watching what I ate this week was lifting my arm to watch the beignet hit my lips.  And can I be honest? 

It was awesome.

But despite the rounder hips that have found their way on my body over the last ten years, I enjoy being 30.  It is likely the best year of my life. 

At 30 I have a career.  I spent so many days and nights in college making next to nothing and wondering if I would someday clock-in to a jay-oh-bee that I adored.  Well I do.  Not sure about all you skinny 20-somethings.  Eat that.

And at 30 I know my limitations.  When you're young people always say "you can be anything you want to be".  Well, at 30, I know a lot of people were sort of lying.  Not that I'm bitter.  I am just pretty sure I am not meant to be an astronaut or physicist. 

And at 30 I just genuinely like myself.  I mean, I wish I was a little quieter.  I wish I knew when to open my mouth and insert my foot.  I wish I could train myself to believe I don't love chocolate, and I wish I could learn how to walk in stilletos effortlessly like a Pussycat Doll.  But it's me.  And I kinda' like it.

So while the 20-somethings sit around and try to figure out their purpose in life, us 30-somethings are busy living our life.  It's awesome.  Don't be jello.