Thirty
And so I turned 30. A few years ago, I was convinced I wouldn’t make it to 30. It didn’t seem like I was destined to live a long life. And I didn’t want to. I have never really thought about my future. I never thought about life ten, fifteen or twenty years from now. I didn’t think about life post retirement. I never planned around old age, like some people seem to do. The closer I got to my 30 th birthday, the more I realised that I was likely to make it to 40. It still felt far away, but it also felt like I would live to see another decade. Anyway, here I am, living the first day of my 30s. Two people asked me this morning if it feels any different. Leaving my 20s, and welcoming my 30s. And I said it doesn’t. There’s no magical element to birthdays. You are still the same person, with the same problems or concerns and the same life. And while I do have those odd moments of realising that I am getting older, I’m actually looking forward to my 30s. I feel like life...