30.

The number in itself isn't all that remarkable. Like everything else, it depends on the context.

Finding $30 in change under the couch is good. Receiving 30 lashes with a rattan cane is bad. Getting 30 miles per gallon in the city is good. Breaking 30 bones in a fall is bad. Getting out of work 30 minutes early is good. Turning 30 years old&ldots;well, you get the picture.

Yes, this morning I awoke with the feeling of some monstrous beast sitting on my chest, sucking the life right out of my body. It turned out it was my chicks' cat. Even after I got the bloated feline off of me, I still felt as though gravity was pulling on me a little stronger, coaxing me into my cold, dark grave.

It's just a little sobering now that I've reached my mental and physical peak. I am at the very pinnacle of my me-ness. From here begins the long slow decline into creaky joints, gray hair, loose teeth, Gold Bond, and painfully unhip TV shows. It's a dark, dark future ahead of me.

If there's one thing my 30 years of life have taught me, it's that you never grow out of problems, they just multiply. For example, I'm sure we can all relate to our youth when we were frustrated by our inability to drive a car. The overriding problem being, of course, that you can't go anywhere. Now that I have a car, I have to pay for it, try not to wreck it, and maintain it. No doubt when I'm old, I'll be struggling to pass those damn exams and stay in control of my vehicle. Life is like that. As soon as you get rid of one problem (being short, not being able to drink, getting bossed around by parents), another one leaps in to take its place (paying taxes, suffering hangovers, having to care for elderly parents). That's just proof that God hates us and loves our misery.

Now that my life is practically over, I wonder if now would be a good time to look back on what I've managed to accomplish. On one hand, I don't think I've banged enough chicks, but on the other hand, I've managed to avoid contact with all STD's. I've raised many tarantulas to adulthood, and I've managed to find a chick who LIKES tarantulas (and owns a Playstation 2). I've filled my head with enough knowledge to defeat even my parents at Trivial Pursuit. I still suffer through an excruciatingly lame job, but I still manage to squeeze in my RDA for TV. I'm also thinking of growing a beard.

I think on the whole I've led a pretty cool life. Sure, I haven't done anything extraordinary, but I haven't murdered anybody or become a drug addict, either. On the whole, I'd say I'm doing somewhat better than average.

What more do you need?