I marked my final birthday of my 30s this week. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared—I woke up Thursday morning and felt just the same. I drove myself to downtown Austin, borrowing a Tesla from the company fleet and getting behind the steering wheel for the first time in a few years. Having successfully navigated without killing myself, I enjoyed a 12k morning run along the Colorado River. That evening, I dipped out of work early for an advanced pole dance class at a studio I hadn't yet tested, followed by cocktails with coworkers. The bar closed early for a private event, which could not have turned out better, as we stumbled out and straight into a magical, Harry-Potter-themed double-decker-bus-turned-speakeasy, complete with animatronic steam punk Hagrid bus driver. Our drinks bubbled and sparkled, and the evening absolutely flew by. I managed to nurse a non-alcoholic Dragon's Breath as I did wind down the final hours of my birthday back in the office with some bonus work. Riding the high from an unexpectedly fun evening, I hardly minded the late hours.
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| Turning 39, Texas edition: a birthday I'd feared that wound up magical instead. |
Official birthday plans awaited back on the West Coast. We'd packed our Saturday agenda with a skate at the Church of 8 Wheels followed by dinner at an Italian hole-in-the-wall around the corner and ice cream at our old neighborhood favorite, Salt & Straw. Each of my non-Neuralink friends had some version of the response, "I'm going to fall on my butt skating—pass" and all my Neuralink friends said, "I'm going to fall on my butt—count me in"—there's a reason I'm still working at this crazy place 8 years in—so my birthday celebration became round two of partying with my coworkers, who I'm pretty sure I can now categorize as friends. The folks who turned out were all amazing sports despite some having never before donned a pair of skates. And, ice creams in hand post-dinner, we wandered down the street and into a jungle gym which we quickly conquered. I so love discovering that growing up doesn't have to be what I saw when I was a kid. I hope everyone gets to wrap up their 30s on a Saturday night atop the tallest playground equipment surrounded by people who make them laugh as much as this fabulous crew.
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| Turning 39, California edition: One-upping the Texas celebration, which I didn't even think would be possible. Note to self: jungle gyms after dark are an excellent way to remind yourself that growing up doesn't have to mean growing old. |
