Does that title make any sense to you? It will in a minute.
You see, as of this post I have less than 30 days left of my 30s. That’s because on February 14th–Valentine’s Day for those of you keeping score at home–I will turn 40, officially giving up on keeping track of my chronological age and becoming just another foodbag wandering the face of this material sphere called Earth. As such, my life will statistically be half over and I will start to hear the distant sound of the Grim Reaper laughing as he sharpens his sickle. Sparks will be flying and everything. Should be pretty cool–like an old Black Sabbath album cover.
But ah, it doesn’t have to be this way! And you know what? I’m not going to let it. Stay with me because I’m now going to drop a few little tibdits on you.