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The early thirties are an interesting time.
Turning 20 really sucked - I wasn't in a famous rock band and I didn't play soccer for a premiership team. Huh - life is all downhill from here, I thought.
Turning 30 was bad, but as bad as turning 20. I was 'doing OK' - no longer wanted to play soccer, no longer wanted to be in a band just wished I was a little richer.
Turning 40 was OK, not brilliant, but OK. No longer cared about money much - got enough to survive and thats enough for me. Glad I was still alive (by the time he was this age, Mozart had been dead for 5 years), glad to be healthy, glad to be good looking and charming, glad that I no longer believed my own propoganda;)
Now I am 44 and the next big one is 50. If I make it, I will be proud to be 50. That is, unless the increased wisdom that 50 brings allows me irradicate the sin of pride, in which case I will finally be perfect.
I'll keep you posted on that one;)
Congrats again Ivana.