Approaching the Hill

I woke up this morning and discovered it was June, the month of my birthday. Usually I'm excited for my birthday. Not quite little-kid excited when I used to demarcate my birthdays by the number of digits in my age. "Ten, mom! This year I become ten! I'll have two numbers in my age!" I used to say. Or by the introduction of "teen" into my age. "Thirteen, mom! I'm officially a teenager!" Though I'm no longer little-kid excited, I still look forward to a special day spent with family, friends, booze and good food. And of course gifts!

But this year I turn twenty-nine, which in and of itself is innocuous enough. But with twenty-nine, comes the inexorable march towards thirty. The big three-oh. This is the age where I look back on my life and evaluate what I've accomplished. And how far I still have to go.

I'm married and happy, and in that sense I'm right on track. House and kids are on the horizon, but that horizon is still a few years away and I'm happy with that. But career-wise, I have yet to still figure things out. When I envisioned my life when I was ten, I thought that by thirty I would be a high-powered executive at a top-notch advertising firm. Well those dreams are no longer my dreams, but I have yet to make my new dreams a reality. Most people I know are already settled in their careers and doing well at them. I keep making new starts. And, at twenty-nine, I'm still in college. Granted, I'm not an undergrad (thank heavens for that!), but still.

Does everybody have this evaluation point at thirty? Does it give you a kick in the butt, or does it just make you feel good to cross the third decade threshold? Are people excited to become 30, because then you're just that much more mature, more adult, more respected? I wonder if it's just a construction in my head or if maybe I'm joining the ranks of the 30-year-old bachelors who discover the party days are over and it's time to settle down and find a wife.