I hit 30 today, and yesterday made the mistake of going to see "Shaun of the Dead" in a deeply hungover state: not nice watching a film about the horror of realising you've pissed your twenties away on the eve of your 30th birthday (though worth seeing for the great New Order reference). It all rang a bit too true for my tastes....
So, does life begin at 30 or is it all downhill from here?