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Well, well - I'm 30

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-eight years and a million words

Sydney, 2001.03.08

I'm 30 years old, now. Hard to believe. I spent the whole day in bed with some instant bug that I seem to have picked up at the office. I can remember, as a child, thinking that the age of eleven seemed impossibly far off.

Then, when I turned 26 I realized that yeah, it was time to get my act in gear. That was the year I went off the wheat and dairy for good. That same I started paying attention to things like hair and clothing styles. And quit my comfy job to see what else was out there. And now even that's four years ago. But here I am, living the life I wanted (that is, taking advantage of this window where techies are overpaid in order to live in other parts of the world), and I'm even engaged! I have to say, it's been progressing nicely.

Sara bought us some tickets to see a play last night, but I wasn't up to going. She wound up taking Jo instead. What a debacle. At least I was home for the delivery guy who turned up at around 13:30, to deliver my 'star'. Ken and Heidi got a star named for me! They called it 'Uccemebug', and needless to say, it's in the Pisces constellation.

So Sara was flown off to Brissie, today, on business. I stayed home to rest up after yesterday, cos I still wasn't right and I didn't want to push it. I don't think anyone needed me at the office wheezing, sneezing, coughing, and bitching, anyway. But Sara bought me a ticket to go to Brisbane, too, so I'm heading down tomorrow night and we'll come back together on Sunday.

rand()m quote

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.

—Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.