I was perusing a magazine the other day while my husband was finishing taping the ceiling during our little painting debacle.
I was studiously reading an article about face cream. It was one of the ones that recommended different types of cream for people of different ages.
I'm always on the lookout for that perfect skin cream. My skin magically flips over from chin zits to scaly dryness at around this time of year. It's charming, really.
I got three-quarters of the way through the page on appropriate face cream for people in their 20's. You know, keep that youthful glow! Protect your skin now while it's still perfect and wonderful!
Then I realized... I'm not in my 20's anymore.
I mean, I've been 30 for 7 months now. I thought I was OK with it.
I just don't think I was ready to be in a category of people who have to use wrinkle-fighting cream. I'm 30, but I don't feel like I'm "in my 30's."
The only problem is... I am in my 30's. I have over 6 years of career experience. I'm married. We're talking about starting a family. We own a home. The parties I throw tend towards sedate affairs with wine, and the guests admire my furniture. We spend our weekends at the farmer's market.
I don't know. I like my life. I just didn't think that the footloose and fancy free part of it would so quickly pass me by. There's a last hurrah of sorts at the end of this month in Vegas for a friend's bachelorette party. It's not actually my party, but I'll still be doing some celebrating. Being 30 is actually pretty great.