3 Days to 30
In three days, I turn 30. The Big 3-0. I used to dread approaching that number. It would mean I was old. I was past my prime. All the fun in life should be over and done, and I should be a settle, responsible adult with a husband, at least four (of my imagined six) kids thriving and absolutely no pets. And not that I imagined that life would be bad--it would still be an adventure. But not the same fun, flirty and free type of adventure that your 20's are for. It also didn't help that as I approached 30, I was still single with no prospects, still had no clue what I wanted to be when I "grew up" and just felt lost in general . Twenty-five was the year I was most excited for. In reflection, I'm not sure why. It's not like 16, when you can finally drive a car by yourself (even if it's a hand-me down from your cousin). Or not like 18, when you become an "official adult." Or even 21, when you can finally drink (which I actually waited to do