Was that my last birthday?

Last Thursday was my ??th birthday. ?? is the age at which I have thought, for as long as I can remember, that I would die. Not in a morbid way, really, because I have come to accept it. I am sure it is pretty obvious I have a bit of a death wish and, to quote Keats “I have been half in love with easeful Death”.

Why this particular age? Maybe it is just a thing I picked up during my impressionable teenage years in the dying days of the Cold War, when I started wearing all black, all the time, listening to too much Morrissey and reading too much Keats (oh, so much Keats).

So was it my last birthday? It totally wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world because I had my “portfolio” reviewed recently and the rate at which me and my measly 401(k) are going, I am never going to be able to afford to retire. I should start practicing now: “Welcome to Walmart.”