A Post About Nothing

I had a post in mind. It was days ago, but it was valid. I was going to post about "looming 40" angst. I composed the post in my head, mentally rolling this way and that way the words I would use to describe the seemingly complex but utterly simple - and common - emotions I was feeling at that moment.

Ten years ago, "29" by the Gin Blossoms was my favorite song. I listened to it over and over and over and over for nearly a year, wallowing in the impending end of my twenties, fearing the unknown of turning 30. It was, ultimately, much ado about nothing. I turned thirty and...liked it. It was liberating. I no longer had to worry about turning 30; I was there. My twenties were a blur. I got pregnant with my first child at twenty and went 90 miles an hour for years afterward, at times working two full time jobs just to earn the money to pay my rent and go to school.

Turning 30 brought a new confidence, a new sense of being a part of the world. I met my husband when I was 30, and in retrospect, maybe I don't need to wonder why. I was finally at peace with myself.

So days ago I popped in my old Gin Blossoms CD, thinking I would listen to "Allison Road" or the "Cajun Song" but finding my fingers pressing "29." I listened. I wallowed. I had flashbacks of near-summer a decade ago, and I allowed the angst to wash over me again, as if I were reliving the entire experience, except with a larger, older number this time.

I mentally blogged it.

By the time I finally had a free moment to sit down and actually write the post instead of thinking about it, I realized it wasn't relevant anymore. The angst was gone. It was the angst of a moment gone by, and it no longer meant anything.

If it comes back, I'll be sure to let you know. ;)