It only serves me right that after years of telling my older friends that "30 is just a number" and "you're only as young as you feel" and other sorts of hackneyed blather, that as my own 30th approaches I'm beginning to sort of freak out.
Whereas it used to irritate me when I was ID'd, now when I'm not ID'd (which is still pretty infrequent), I worry that I'm actually starting to look my age. After 29 years of better than perfect vision, I had to increase the font of my laptop so that I didn't have to squint to see the tiny print. I did something to both my shoulders two weeks ago that aside from causing me unbelievable pain, also means I can't scratch my own back or walk both the dogs simultaneously, amongst other inconveniences. Do you know what it's like to need someone to comb your own hair? It's awful.
At least I haven't started watching Matlock reruns yet!
In other random facts, you know you've become a complete dog nerd when you open up your car's first aid kit and notice you stashed a few poo bags in there in case you have a roadside breakdown with one of the nerdlets riding shotgun.
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