I am now 27-years-of-age.
I feel I have to write it, because it seems ridiculous. I feel no different today, but then I’ve not felt any different on any birthday since my thirteenth when I thought I would turn into Harry Enfield’s Kevin character. I didn’t and was slightly disappointed.
Actually, I felt a bit different when I turned 17 because I had a concussion and a large scab on my arm after falling over while running at a traffic bollard I was going to pretend to rugby tackle at the sixth form summer party.
But 27 does actually seem old. It’s not, but then it does tend to be people aged 27 and over who say that it’s not old, and I suppose we are now in the majority. So there.
I have spent today doing activities you would expect for a birthday, such as painting the shed. Further evidence of my aging has been provided by me carrying out my first ever DIY job, using wood, a saw and everything. One of the windows in the shed had fallen out and smashed, so I cut up a plank of wood into three pieces and stuck it in the window pane holding it
in place with a gaffer tape on the inside. I rock. I’m going to the pub shortly
to try and regain some of my disappearing youth.
I wonder what this 27th year has, it better be good. You’ll be able to find out
just what it has in store on this website you see before you, just not yet as
it hasn’t happened yet.
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