
As I sit here scraping the last bits of baked bean juice from tonight’s dinner off my plate, I wonder how I have managed to reach the age of thirty in one piece. I’m still not sure I particularly feel like an adult. I can tick off quite a few of the “adult” boxes: I pay a mortgage; I pay bills; I am married; I have a job; I save money regularly; I have a credit card; I book my own doctor’s appointments. The list goes on. I’m sure anyone looking from the outside would say that I’m doing OK at this whole adulting thing. So I’m not sure why I’m feeling so meh about turning 30.







