real life

13 things on every person's to-do list after they turn 30.

We write lists with the best intentions in the world. Lovely fresh lists. And as the days and weeks go past, these lists lose their lustre, become our accusers, show us up in all our procrastinatory failure. Ours looks a little like this:

1. Book a hygienist appointment: I only smoke very occasionally and floss all the time. I am constantly flossing. Floss, floss, flossing now. Red wine once a year. So why are the backs of my teeth the colour of coffee – oh…

2. Make a will: I have been very focussed on making a will for about two years. It is totally important and very front-of-mind. I think about it daily. Guess what? Still not done it.

3. Transfer $50 out of a redundant bank account that I never use: Maybe I just like to think it’s secret money that will buy me a new life if I ever need to jump ship.

4. Sort out the damp patch on the ceiling: Yes there’s mould. But does it matter? How much mould is too much mould? I have developed mould apathy. Mildew paralysis.

5. Buy a perfect white shirt: So that I can develop a perfect work wardrobe. Rather than faded black with all stains that no one can see. Except they can.

6. Shorten the curtains: Yes they are too long. Yes they were bought for my first flat. But now they are up. Well, they are up. So they are up. Am I going to take them down, take them to the dry cleaners, get them shortened? Am I?

Listen: The Mamamia Out Loud team chat about what a ‘midult’ really is, and Holly Wainwright discovers she is one. Post continues after audio.


7. Clear out the back of the fridge: Truffly French mustard bought five years ago, anyone? Non.

8. Cancel my subscription to the meditation app: That I basically use for 10 minutes once a year. At $4.99 a month. (I just went to cancel it and then my brain went, ‘But you are about to go on holiday, maybe you’ll meditate there.’)

9. Go to the theatre: The theatre is so revitalising, there’s so much exciting work on at the moment, you know by that cool director Ivo van Hove von Hoven. The Ferryman, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Yerma, Hamlet. *baulks at the price* *can’t stay up past 10* *never goes to the theatre*

10. Drink more water: But… pee maths…

11. Buy one of those portable charger thingies: You know those things. You know the ones….

12. Book a silent retreat: *laughs hysterically*

13. Make lots of lovely picture books: Of the last five years of holidays you’ve had. Some better than others. And then give them to all the people you went away with, because that’s the person you want to be. Or want people to think you are. Even though quite clearly you are not that person.


If you found you furiously nodding your head in agreement, then we have more for you: 

This post was originally published on The Midult and has been republished with full permission.