Maybe that's to do with how much older my husband is, I don't know, but I always have felt very, very young.
Thirty, though. Thirty is not young. I remember being horrified when my older sister turned thirty (sorry, Pua). It was SO OLD. How could my sister be so old?
Of course, I quickly found out that it didn't matter to me so very much. I cared about my authors, about my books, and about many books that the people I worked with represented. But let's face it, the reason you can't find anything you want to read is because crap gets published, and really good books can't get onto a bookshelf. And going to work every day was depressing. And then sundry not entirely relevant details later, and I suddenly found myself with a baby, but with no job.
Cause it's just so much fun.