Thirty

I’ve been thir­ty for a cou­ple of days now, but as I sit here watch­ing The Return of the King & eat­ing piz­za rolls, life does­n’t seem that much dif­fer­ent now than when I was 15. It is, of course. I’ve always been some­one who wants to be tak­en more seri­ous­ly than my age would indi­cate. Some­how I feel that now that I’ve com­plet­ed 3 decades, some allot­ment of dig­ni­ty or respect is my due. I’m per­fect­ly aware that dig­ni­ty & respect are earned, not bestowed, but there’s not much oppor­tu­ni­ty to suc­cess­ful­ly work for either when you’re in your twen­ties.

Now that I’m thir­ty, there’s noth­ing left but to be seri­ous and mature all of the time, for the rest of my life.