Thursday, February 12, 2009

 
Thirty

I have always had a healthy sense of self-confidence so my age meant little to me. Well, at least my being self conscious about it.

I hit 30 next month. The big three O. A new stage in my life.

No, there isn't any status anxiety on my end about me not getting married. Even Daisy's insistence that I should religiously apply eye cream and sun block as my daily beauty regime (given that we can only get younger and wrinkler from here) has also fallen onto deaf ears.

I find myself regressing. No career and me waitressing with a bunch of teens and early twenty somethings who seem to act like my age. I don't realise that they are quite a fair bit younger than me. Even my skin is getting zits, like I am going through another stage of puberty in my life. When I was a teenager, my complexion was fair and flawless. Ah, like the curious case of Benjamin Button.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I cannot help but get slightly discomforted with the imminent arrival of my new decade of existence- hmm, am getting too old for the Old Boy.

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