Tomorrow I will turn 32.

I have noticed that ever since I got into my thirties, whenever people of a similar age know it is my birthday, the conversation is always amusingly similar. They suddenly turn into the [four yorkshiremen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1a1wHxTyo), rattling off progressively worsening examples of the ailments of age, about how *things ache more than they did*, *I just don’t have the energy I once had*, *hangovers last longer*, *married life is different*, and * is a young man/womens game*.

Screw that.

I have never been happier. I have wonderful wife, beautiful home, the best job in the world, incredible friends and family, and while I admittedly have *Bon Jovi Knee*, my early thirties feel great. There is a world of people fitter, smarter, and better looking than me out there, but I am happy, and I am thankful for that.

Mind you, I do find myself enjoying comfortable trousers more than I did. Uh oh.