Flooded basement be damned, I went out for dinner and dancing with some friends. Then the tornado sirens started, and we were all herded into the underground parking garage.
Dear Mother Nature: It’s June already. Do try to keep up.
Eight years ago, I spent my 22nd birthday helping my brother and his family move into their new house. It really drove home the point that, after 21, birthdays just don’t matter anymore. (Note to non-US readers: In the US, you can drink at 21.)
This morning, I woke up to my 30th birthday and was greeted by a basement full of water. Yay for adulthood!