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I turned 31.
Don't worry, a fire extinguisher was on hand. Just a heads-up to anyone who hasn't hit this fantastic milestone yet, it's not nearly as painful as turning 30. And I didn't even set the "soft deadline" for myself.
Last year on my birthday, I had just moved back to Texas and was seriously considering putting Visine in all five roommates' coffee. I treated myself to some enchiladas at a Mexican place down the street, overdrawing my bank account. I didn't mind, considering I hadn't eaten in a couple of days.
So things are already looking up this year.
On a very rare serious note, a co-worker died very suddenly last week. She was 30. It always takes a tragedy to make you remember to live as though you might not see tomorrow. Because you might not.
