Last Monday, June 4th, I celebrated my 19th birthday. It’s not until now, however, nine days later, that I thought to mention it in my blog. Then, a thought occurred to me: I can finally make up for the long gaps between my recent articles by writing a story, no matter how pointless…yeah, that’ll fool the readers. Well, it seemed like a better thought in my head.
So now I’m 19. My age is finally a prime number again, although it’s no longer divisible by nine, and won’t be again until I’m 27. Darn. That’s all for the mathematical analysis of my age.
Somehow, I already feel like an old man, despite the fact that all the real old men around me keep telling me that my life has just begun. But, if I live for a hundred years, I’ve lived almost one-fifth of my life. And, after looking at some of my relatives, I’m not certain that I’ve got a hundred years…
I thought birthdays were supposed to be cheerful. I guess that ended when I was around 16 (the last time my age will be a perfect square until I’m 25).