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Thirty. Thirttttty….Thirty. It still doesn’t seem right.

Well, folks.

It’s happened. Something unbelievable. Something so horrendous, it’s just unimaginable that I could even write it out here and not immediately fall faint, it’s just that bad.

I’ve left my 20s behind and am now 30 years old.

Did the Earth shudder when you read that? If so, that was me fainting all dramatic like…again. I’m sure my husband is good and tired of that by now. (Shut up!)  How in hell did I get this old, man?  I never in my life thought I’d get to this age, to be honest.  No, I didn’t think I’d die in some odd death, it just never occurred to me that there was more years behind that whole 18 year old thing. Wait, that doesn’t sound right, does it? I mean, I knew there were ages after 18 and all that.  I was just to indifferent to aging to notice,”Oh, holy hell, I’m an adult!”  It snuck up on me, I admit it. (Yes, my hair may be black, but in spirit, it’s blonde.)

The funny thing is, I don’t see how I let it sneak up. I’m a stay at home mom with a five year old. (Holy crap, she’s going to be six soon. *facepalm*)

Could be worse.  I have a cousin* that is absolutely heartbroken when she has a birthday. EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. I have my moments, true, but every year?  Nah.. I’m too lazy for that kinda break down. When I break down, I’m going to make it worth it, buddy. EVERYONE’S going to know. *snicker*

I think the point of this post is:  I really need to get my head out of my ass.

*If my cousin ever finds this, and ends up reading this, she’s probably going to murderize me. Doubt she’ll find it…SO DON’T BE GOING AND TELLIN’ HER DAMMIT.

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