The Most Dreaded Day of the Year

What is the most dreaded day of the year? No, it’s not Black Friday. I realize many women love this day. I, however, am not one of those. Gee, I wonder why? Nothing says “Christmas spirit” more than waiting in line at 3 am outside a superstore only to sprint your way to the desired object and find that the heifer in front of you grabbed the last one. Right? No, it’s not on Christmas as you tear into a lovely wrapped gift given by an adoring family member that still feels you are “too precious” only to realize that your gift is the most disgusting Christmas snowman sweater equipped with little jingle bells on each cuff of the sleeves. And no, it’s not April 15^th. This day is dreaded by many because your tax return is due. I don’t really have to worry because I hastily submit for my return every year. I WANT MY MONEY B! And asap!

This day is the day of my birth. It will occur on Tuesday, October 2^nd. It will be my 8^th 21^st birthday. Yes, you heard that right. Alright, alright! I will be turning 29... Ugh.. I just threw up in my mouth a little. Sad thing is, this used to not be the case. I used to love my birthday. Not anymore. The statement “the last year of my twenties” makes me cringe and deeply saddens my heart. My twenties have been very good to me. I met, fell in love with and married a wonderful, supportive man. I went to college and had the time of my life. I followed my dream and graduated as a doctor of veterinary medicine. I adopted my very first dog, the love of my life. Shhh. Don’t tell Craig. Although, he makes this comment on a daily basis. I traveled to many exotic locations including: Mexico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Belize, and Honduras. I’ve watched all of my closest friends marry and have children of their own. We purchased our very first home. Basically, lived it up!

Now, rapidly creeping up are the thirties. Time to think about the future and become an adult. We are no longer considered youthful enough to go clubbing, stay out until dawn, or go on spring break. Talks of babies fill the thirty year old air by your family and friends. “So, when are you gonna have a baby?” is a common question asked even by random strangers. Weekends will now consist of trips to the Home Depot, yard work, paying bills, and staying in to watch a DVD for fun. Goodbye binge drinking… because if you do this like you did in your twenties, you are considered an alcoholic. And, the hangovers will hurt way more than what they used to. Like, you need a two day recovery period...

Gee… that sounds like sooo much fun. But, in the words of my wise husband, “I’d rather get old then get dead.“ Maybe the thirties will hold exciting times. Never a dull moment, right? I really guess I’m going to have to learn to grow up. Yes, it’s time to grow up. But, I don’t wanna!

Cheers!
Tara