Turning 30 turned out to be much easier than I first thought. In fact if you take your eye off the ball it can happen without any effort at all. 29 felt much more stressful. Now that I'm here it's all ok. And given that most of my friends are already in this decade (and some preparing to leave it) I figure I'm in good company. So I would like to share with you some observations about life after thirty (a week after...)
My superannuation statement arrived a few days ago. I read it and took note of how much money was in my account and how much interest it had earned. How's that for a long term outlook?
Yesterday when I was folding up the washing I mustered the maturity to use the lint brush on my black clothes instead of waiting until I was halfway to work and then noticing I was covered in fluff.
I have been wary of complaining too much about my age, but I did let slip to the Fella a few weeks ago, "I know this will sound silly, but I think I can see my hands ageing." Luckily my mum read my mind and bought me some hand cream with SPF 15. I see this as dipping a toe into the world of skin preservation products but am willing to justify it because, hey, it's just suncream, right? It does not claim to rejuvenate, repair, enhance, refine, lift or improve my life.
Speaking of my mum, I have finally decided to heed her advice about using organic shampoo and conditioner (without really understanding why, and while ignoring other very sensible advice about washing fruit and vegetables). Now if only I could just make myself exercise regularly and floss my teeth...
So while turning 30 has proven not to be traumatic, and I actually feel much more relaxed now than I did in the lead up while I obsessed about time running out, I am glad I returned to Sydney to be with friends. Not to commiserate or provide support but to celebrate. And now I have a mantelpiece full of cards to remind what I really miss about Sydney.
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