My birthday is coming up soon as May is quickly approaching. I am turning the...erhm...big two-four.
At work we seem to have been discussing age a lot lately. I would be inclined to think it has something to do with the fact that there are a lot of birthdays in the coming few summer months.
Each year, no matter the age of the individual, it seems to be a matter of great despair: Turning another year older. Some people seem to shrug the day off without much worry (and thus they do not start early work on those worry lines, how clever...) and I belong - to some extent - to this group.
What I seem to get caught up over is the fact that every year I get a new number to call my own, a number which seems so unfamiliar. You would think I'd be used to the idea of this new number now defining me, as I have had a whole year to prepare but every year it feels so strange, so bizarre.
A few weeks and I'll be able to experience deja vú.