Tomorrow I turn 30, so today I have to enjoy the last of my young-adulthood. Because of this magical, nearly arbitrary date (that being the 10957th day of my life, skewed by leap years), I can expect to suddenly become deeply concerned with:

• Stock options
• The state of my lawn
• The volume of music played by younger individuals
• The thermostat
• Baggy pants
• Kids disrespecting their elders
• How everything was better in my day

It is indeed a cruel fate. Nevertheless, I am as prepared as I can be, both to make the transition and to cling desperately to the youthfulness I can no longer claim. Woe.