I Just Turned 30 And I’m Totally Fine. No Anxiety Here. Nope…(please help)…

I’M NOT ANXIOUS ABOUT TURNING 30, YOU’RE ANXIOUS ABOUT ME TURNING 30.

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Yesterday was my 30th birthday, and I have absolutely no anxiety about my life.

I just want to make that very clear.

The reason I bring that up is because some of my friends, family members, and escaped convicts (who I helped escape) that I know all went through this period around their 30th birthdays where they were like “I JUST TURNED 30 OMG MY LIFE IS ALREADY 37% OVER AND I’M STILL A LOSER PLEASE SAVE ME SUPERMAN” or whatever.

Apparently, these people are operating under the bizarre impression that stupidity, fun, and sex are outlawed when you’ve reached your third decade of existence.

But not me!

My best years are still ahead of me, and that’s what keeps me so tranquil about my stupid goddamn motherfucking 30s WHY CAN’T I JUST STAY 29 AND A QUARTER FOR THE REST OF MY —

Hell, you might as well call me Well-Adjusted Willie.

I mean, sure, part of me is considering throwing myself into an active or even dormant volcano for not having become a rock star / Hollywood filmmaker / classical composer / astronaut / cowboy yet I SHOULD’VE ACCEPTED THOSE INTERNSHIP OFFERS FROM STEVEN SPIELBERG, METALLICA, AND NASA WHO COULD LOVE AN UNEMPLOYED SCREENWRITER LIKE ME —

But other than that, no anxiety here. Cool as a cucumber!

Okay, I will admit that part of me is unbelievably terrified of turning ancient and inheriting a cantankerous future of yelling at neighborhood kids to get off my dirt patch of a front lawn I MEAN I JUST WATERED THOSE PETUNIAS DON’T YOU KIDS HAVE PARENTS WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE WE HAD SOMETHING CALLED RULES OH MY FUCK I SOUND LIKE OLD MAN MADISON DOWN THE STREET —

But hey, at least I don’t have any anxiety. Call me Mellow Yellow!

And I will admit that every time I cough I think that I’m going to need a hip replacement and will soon qualify for senior citizen’s discounts at Denny’s and that I’ll need to subsist on a regular diet of prune juice and Metamucil and OH-EM-JEEZUSS MY BODY IS STARTING TO LOOK LIKE MELTED ICE CREAM WHERE’S THE NEAREST BRIDGE CLUB I HOPE THEY DON’T GO PAST 6PM I GOTTA WATCH MY STORIES —

But nah. No anxiety here, baby. My new name is Peaceful Pete (spoiler alert: it’s not).

Yup.

I’m just chillin’.

“Chilly Billy”, they call me.

Emotional stability is all I eat.

La la la la

HOLY CRAPOLY SOMEONE CALL JURASSIC PARK I’M PRACTICALLY A FOSSIL I’M SO OLD PLEASE REANIMATE ME SO I CAN TERRORIZE A THEME PARK —

I’ve written some other articles that you’re legally mandated to read:

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I cover art, culture, film, comedy, creativity, books, and more at https://medium.com/the-reckless-muse

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