but I won’t wear purple, dammit. Pink’s good enough for the likes of me.
So my friends who know I’m turning thirty and pretty peeved about it are of two minds: (1) they’re not thirty yet but they will be soon, and they understand why I feel like my life is over, or (2) they’re already in their thirties (or older) and keep saying annoying things like "honey, life begins at thirty!"
Yep. Life. Apparently hasn’t begun yet. Is probably going to be filled, as were my late twenties, with the slow relinquishment of one dream after another and the continuing expansion of my waistline beyond all reasonable capacity.
Screw thirty. It sucks. Or it will.