Two months from today I will no longer be in my youth. I will turn 30 on that day, a dread event indeed.
In my twenties, I could still get away with being silly and often goofy, but when I reach that magical number will I suddenly mature? Will I, regardless of my desires and the only way I know how to live, be transformed into a real adult? Will I begin speaking in complete, perfectly articulated sentences, not using slang or conjunctions? Will I no longer enjoy obsessing about silly little things like frogs and monkeys and the Incredible Hulk?
Here I was, thinking that I was ready for this day of maturity, but now I’ve gone and talked myself right out of it. Please begin praying for the trumpet to sound before November 18th.