So if my Facebook notifications are advising me correctly, apparently yesterday was my birthday, and I’m pretty sure I turned 28. I’m sure it’s not just me, because many are the stories from those who have endured this trauma, but birthdays after 25 really start to suck.
While I haven’t quite reached the point where I am reduced to a sobbing puddle while stuffing my face with cake and wine mourning the loss of another year of youth, birthdays after 25 still tend to be tame and best and at dismal at worst. The mediocre birthdays would be okay if it weren’t for all the bad things that happen to remind you you’re old. Between 25 and 29, birthdays are just a crisis countdown of the imminent end of all things fun as we know it at age 30. This may be an incomplete list as I still have a couple of years to add to it, but here are a few things only birthday grinches age 26-29 will understand: