I was going to write a long, wordy post about turning 31, hopes, fears, dreams – realised and dashed. Wrinkles, single grey hairs, clusters of grey hairs, being jealous of 22-year-old’s asses, attempting to not have a third of life-life crisis, babies, relationships, where to from here? etc etc. But then, I was speaking to the ameezing Ryan about it and he simply said, ’31 is the new 21, man.’
And I felt much better. So I’m going to leave it at that. I can’t wait to be 21. Again.