5. I feel I should learn to knit, conquer my fear of heights or something before I turn 30. And since that happens in just 5 months maybe now is the time to decide on something and get started.
4. I am hoping for snow on my birthday, degrees below zero and snow. It snowed when I was born. The ambulance couldn’t get down the road where my parents lived, so my mother had to walk to the ambulance with a ski stick in one hand and my dad in the other. I want snow. I want pretty white landscapes and weather that bites your cheeks when you go outside. I am anxious about turning 30 and I don’t think a brownish, barren landscape will do me any good on the day. Snow, please. I am not asking for both sunshine and snow, I am only asking for snow.
3. My birthday is a Saturday. I kind of hope we have a living room by then. I hope the papers come early that Saturday. And I hope that J will make me tea and bake croissants while I snooze a couple more minutes in bed. I hope he serves me apple juice and chocolate almonds in bed as usually on my birthday before I take a quick shower to get ready for the real breakfast.
2. I hope my parents give me a painting or a drawing now that they didn’t when I (finally) got my degree. And I hope that J finds me a present that makes me look at him teary-eyed and count my blessings as I have done the past six years.
1. A year ago I had no problem approaching 30. I had all the time in the world to cross of things from the list of things that I needed to get down before the big day. I have crossed off many things and when I look back I kind of like the things I have achieved and I feel proud, but I worry about turning 30 and having to face my list – one thing in particular on that list… I am not pregnant and not only did I never think I would be childless when turning 30, but neither did I think that I wouldn’t even be pregnant. As the months rapidly fly by and each brings disappointment and tears, I realise that it is highly likely I won’t be pregnant on my birthday. The thought of being able to drink champagne and let the bubbles go straight to my head ought to make me happy, but I am not. I don’t feel the slightest bit like drinking champagne on my birthday.