Twenty-Eight days.
That’s all the time I have left in which to enjoy the freedoms of being closer to twenty than to thirty. Come the twenty-ninth of May, I’ll be celebrating my twenty-sixth year of life, and beginning that inexorable, grim slide into middle age and death.
Still, it’s a minor miracle that I’ve made it this far, given my general disregard for my personal safety in favour of doing things that look fun, or ‘cool’.
I think I’ll write later, when I’m not so consumed by my own sense of mortality and impending oblivion.
TTFN
3 Comments
May 6, 2008 at 4:45 am
Aren’t you supposed to suffer this complex when you turn 30?
May 6, 2008 at 6:14 pm
I’m getting a head start – this way, I can get the mid-life crisis stupidly-flashy-sportscar/motorcycle five years earlier!
Rooney
May 7, 2008 at 5:16 am
Very good point.