So, how does it feel to be thirty?
Honestly, it’s not that a big deal. I turned 30 on the 23rd, and apart from being a year closer to my grave, nothing special happened. I went to work, as is usual, being a Friday; entertained clients, as I was supposed to; did pleadings, otherwise I’d be up to my neck on it if I dallied a day longer. A colleague (whose birthday falls on the 27th, joined me for the celebration) and I threw a simple lunch at the office. My parents came all the way from the province and treated me to a birthday dinner at home, with relatives from both sides as my visitors. Other than those, the day I turned 30 was a simple day. The only glorious thing about it was that I was born into this world, 30 years ago. And that ought to count for something (wink, wink).
I do my resolutions on my birthday, because technically, my year starts on that day. Don’t argue with me; it’s one of my peculiarities. I’m not into resolutions anyway, but I want to make a fuss about my turning 30. So my new year’s resolution is to save up – for whatever.
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