Tempus Fugit

… this would be my last post as a twenty-something.

I feel ancient – that ominous third decade hits tomorrow.

I am not sure what I was expecting to achieve by the time I hit 30 but I’m not sure I’m where I wanted to be.

For some reason I feel incredibly underachieved and unfulfilled which really is to some extent sufferingly self-indulgent self-pity because I’ve managed to do a lot in 30 years – just not enough to make me feel like I’ve made the most of it.

By now I thought I’d be married with kids, or galavanting around the world. Instead I’m stuck working, still studying, generally feeling like there should be or could be so much more.

Which I guess means that I really must make an effort to make the most of the next 30 years so that I don’t have regrets on my 60th.