Thirty is the new 21, so say reports this week. Gone are the days when people reached the traditional "markers of maturity" - stable career, committed relationship and babies - in their early 20s.
Now all that grownup stuff apparently (OK, statistically) happens around 30.
This is good news for those in their early 20s, who have a decade or so of responsibility-free existence to look forward to.
But it's not brilliant news for those around the big 3-0 ... who can officially consider themselves old.
Of course, as self-helpists and wrinkly 1960s rockers are so fond of telling us, age is just a state of mind, man.
That's why 40 is the new 30, 60 is the new 40 and 100 is the new 75.
So how do you know when you've crossed the silent and serious threshold from youthful to adultful? How do you really know when you are old?
Try our this checklist:
You finished high school last century.
You have an accountant.
You go to Bunnings more than you go clubbing. Way more.
You haven't cooked two minute noodles for at least five years and somehow, always have capers in your fridge.
You own a mortar and pestle.
You are worried about how your herbs are going to survive the winter.
You know how much a Jasper couch costs (on sale).
You have a "partner" not a girl/boyfriend.
You not only know how to spell "bonbonniere", you know what it means.
You don't celebrate birthdays anymore, you distract from them: i.e. "my partner is taking me nude sky diving for my birthday so I don't have to think about turning 30..."
If you're having a party, you start it in the afternoon, so all your friends with kids can come for a bit.
Not that this matters! You mostly seem to "do lunch" these days. On a Sunday. With capers.
If you have a really big night, the hangover now lasts for two days, not one.
You think video clips have become too pornographic.
You are a regular attendee at yoga because of a recurrent lower back problem. Not because you dig the bendy instructor.
You say things like: "yeah but I'm way fitter now than I was when I was in my 20s".
You've made a pledge to yourself that you will never ever stay in a backpackers again.
Same goes for living in a share house.
You no longer carry the vague hope that one day you will a) marry a minor European royal b) get talent scouted by Hollywood or c) play cricket for your country.
Doing another degree or volunteering in a developing country are no longer seen as legitimate ways for you to delay your entry into the workforce.
Your parents converted your old bedroom into a TV room three Olympics ago.
When you think back on your teenage years, instead of feeling resentful towards your parents, you worry what karma might have in store, should you reproduce.
You think hipsters are ridiculous.
You're reading this and defensively thinking of reasons why none of it applies to you.
How did you go? Let us know in the comments below
- Sydney Morning Herald
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