See, I was dreading 30 because I always thought of it as the time by which I should really know what I'm "doing" with my life--i.e. be on a career path that satisfied me. You'd think, given that I'm working on my dissertation, that fear would be baseless...but I guess I'm just difficult ;) Most people who get PhDs in Rhet Comp go on to be tenure-track professors, but I'm no longer very sure that's what I want to do--while also feeling like I'm too far into my program now to quit without that lovely P(iled) h(igher &) D(eeper) in my grubby little ink-stained hand. But once I finish, I'm not decided on what I'll do with it--and hence, dreading turning 30, with all my attendant imagined expectations of needing to be "mature" and "decisive" by then.
But then one of my uncle's gave me a funny card that said something like "aging is inevitable, but maturity is optional" as the tagline (hurray for optional maturity!). (I included the Einstein pic because it seemed to fit that sentiment perfectly). He also reminded me that, compared to my 20s (during which time both my parents died unexpectedly), my 30s had plenty of room for improvement.
So my new goal is to stop seeing my 30s as a cause for the dreaded side of growing up, and instead as an opportunity: to be as immature as I want (in that fun, dance on the table way, rather than the stupid teenage boy kind of way, that is). On that note, I went to Dave & Buster's to play lots of skee-ball and other ridiculous games on my 30th--and enjoyed myself more than I have in ages.
Has anyone else found stereotypical stiff-upper-lip maturity to be terribly over-rated?