And Then One Day You're Thirty
T.Coraghessan Boyle, Water Music
One day I woke up and I was thirty. I didn't feel different to how I did the day before nor the year before. Nor four or five years before that. It always felt like it was going to be a momentous occasion- one of great sorrow or joy- but the truth is fairly anticlimactic. Strange how when you're a young kid, setting fire to cats, tormenting teachers with unique and ingenious nicknames (ie. 'Mr. Fuckhead') and dreaming of one day becoming an astronaut, and the whole concept of thirty is something you just can't wrap around your head. It's a blinking crystal that tells people it's time to go. It's the perfect age to become the prime ingredient for Soylent Green. But mainly, it's something that happens to OTHER PEOPLE.
My actual birthday was pretty non-eventful. Apart from the sheer joys of receiving an eviction notice because one of the previous housemates hasn't paid up his share of the rent six months ago (See: Why Micah and I are no longer friends) nothing much happened that day. I knocked off early, had dinner with mum and shared some drinks with Matt and Mack. A pleasant evening but not one filled with any deep emotion. Compared to that I remember a week previously sitting outside a bar with a beer in my hand and watching the lights slowly turn on in the buildings around the city as dusk became night and thinking that it somehow felt like Christmas. And, in a way, that felt like a true day, like a year had finally clocked over.
Soylent Green is People!
 It was actually the follow-up to the Notice to Vacate letter from way back when. But eviction letter sounds cooler.