Turning 30 has made me realize how fast life is moving towards mid-life. Losing the 20-something tag shows already on my body but not yet on the mind. From this August, I have noticed that I no longer need to strictly show my ID while buying beer. I was quick to attribute it to my maturity and the smile that flaunts my face after the first drink. But a casual introspection quickly turned the initial happiness into an sadness about the state of affairs that my facade is portraying to young cashiers at Trader’s Joe and to eccentric barmen all over the city. And to top it all my 20-something girlfriend recently commented that I better shape up before visiting her for holidays lest her 20-something friends think that she is dating a 30-something sugar daddy. Ah, it doesn’t get worse than that just months after your 2010 birth day.
I have had the gym membership for years but only recently I have become serious to visit it at least once a week (once-a-week? I know, it sounds like a joke). I have also decided to eat better – salads in lunch, stir-fry-vegetables for dinner, self-squeezed juices, fruits, nuts, and my occasional healthy Indian cooking. I have also turned nearly a vegetarian except for the rare chicken I still get killed for my gustatory satisfaction. And when I cannot help being on the couch I watch all the comedies and the hopelessly romantic Bollywood escapist shit to keep me jovial.