See?? THIS. This is why I did not want to turn 30!

GH and I both turned 30 this fall. Except I did it a month earlier than him because I am 1) competitive, and 2) a cougar.

For me, counting down to 30 was fine. Piece of cake. GH approached it with a bit more trepidation and apparently he had the right idea. Because since we reached the triple digits, we have both started falling completely apart. First GH's back decided to just quit working. It's most likely brought on by stress, working the graveyard shift, and working the graveyard shift on really crappy chairs. The poor guy can barely get up and down and is using me as a pulling-self-up-on tool. And a poor one at that, if this morning's pained " grumble grumble useless grumble" mutter is to be believed. He is now wishing that someone thought to give him a cane for his birthday. For my part, about the day after my birthday I turned into an insane(r) person who didn't really feel like doing anything (see: blogging, cleaning, being nice to people, etc.). Come to find out I'm having a problem with mah thy-roid. So, you know, will be getting that figured out. Also I'm coming down with a cold and woke up this morning feeling as though someone were trying to slit my throat from the inside.

So after GH got home from work we're both lying in bed moaning and groaning (and no, not in the good way) over our various ailments while we also tried vainly to be sympathetic, comforting people to each other. It was pretty pathetic. Welcome to 30.

That's probably why they kick you out of the singles wards after your 30th year. They don't want the fresh 18-year-olds to be freaked out by all of us stumbling around with walkers and losing teeth and limbs right and left.

Ageists.

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