In case you didn't know (which is likely, because I'm not one to go blabbing about it), I had a birthday this week. I'm now officially 30.

It amuses me to hear of so many people that make a big deal out of a milestone like that. Sure, it's a good, round number and all... but it doesn't mean anything. Yay, I'm 30... BFD. Does it get me anything special? No.

Does it mean I'm just another year older? Ya.

The only negative about it for me has nothing to do with the age itself - but with plans that I had hoped to make by this time, specifically, to buy a house. And sadly, it doesn't look like that's going to happen this year. If I'm lucky, maybe next year, but I don't know.

But not actually being able to do that makes me sadder than being 30. Who gives a shit about being 30?

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