Well, it’s finally here, the day that I was hoping might slide by and leave me unaffected has arrived.

My 30th year is one week away and, well, I don’t think I like it. I know that some of you out there will say I’m still a baby, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. As far as I’ve come in my life, I still feel like I’m at the beginning of knowing all there is to know, but am in the middle of adulthood. Bills, responsibility, trying to make a living and feeling the pressure.

It’s not like when I turned 20. While I was trying to do the same, it didn’t feel as important or as urgent as it does now. Maybe the reason for that is because a lot has changed in the last 10 years. The economy has put a damper and continues to put a damper on the sights I set for myself.

I used to honestly believe that wherever I was, I could find a job. I don’t believe that anymore. Invincible is how I felt upon entering my 20s, that is definitiely not the case anymore.

I used to be happy with the money I made and always felt like it was enough, and if it wasn’t I could always make more. I don’t feel secure with my income and am glad to have two jobs to try and sustain myself with, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. The ability for social mobility seems a far cry from where I am right now.

I can’t remember ever having that feeling before. It weighs heavy on my shoulders and makes me feel helpless sometimes. Is this what it means to be an adult? Or am I missing something?

Perhaps I am looking at it all wrong, because things are supposed to get better, economically I mean. But, I wonder if I’ve let the worries of the world crowd my judgement. That this whole economic concept isn’t as important as I’m allowing it to be.

Because from an achievement standpoint I am exactly where I wanted to be when I set my sights on going back to school four years ago, graduated with a job in my “chosen” industry.

I think what I’ve really allowed to get under my skin is the worry about my future that seems to be getting stronger as I get older. There are times when it doesn’t seem important that I move forward with my life, when it feels like it’s okay to live for the moment. It almost feels like cheating though, because it’s so easy to give into the thrills of emotion and action that come with only being present.

Present.

This is what I miss the most about my 20s. This is what forward thinking makes me forget. Maybe it’s cliche, but I feel like I need to allow myself to be present more. The simplicity of it removes the burden an economy in the toilet has furrowed my brow to carry. It reminds me of the me I feel like I am missing, the me I allowed myself to be just five years ago.

Sure, experience leads to wisdom and all that good stuff we value in our lovely existence, but there is something to be said for the unworrying innocence of our sashay into the adult world. Full of pompous energy and a know-it-all attitude.

And the older I become, although I am still a baby, I know, the more I want to hold onto that and keep it with me as I continue my path through life. And at the very least allow myself the simple knowledge that I once knew existed. A moment taken for a moment is more precious than the future that we hope will come and bless us with its bounty.