I won’t be 30 for another two years (I can see many of you rolling your eyes right now). Even so, the majority of my peers are in their thirties. So I’m kind of like an honorary 30-somthing-year-old and it’s beginning to take its toll. I’m having visions of children. And property. I’ve been calling Vanguard to explore lucrative options for my 401K Plan. I’m thinking of getting chickens, and ferrets, and cats. I’m familiar with the series Poirot and growing very fond of Agatha Christie. I’m going to more weddings than late-night dance parties. Just kidding! But seriously, I’m feeling the pull of the great divide between my 20’s and 30’s–my Saturn Return is in full effect.
Vivian, my mother, used to watch thirtysomething all the time. I know, it’s bit campy and I don’t think there were many black folks in the series. But I too was a fan of the show and became attached to the characters though I was only 9-years-old by the time the series ended. I think it’s safe to say that the woes of people in this age range are legitimate. In a time where a comfortable life is growing more difficult to obtain–I empathize with my peers who are striving to make a life for themselves and families. Kudos to those people who want to grow up. I happens to the best of us.