Sign of the times


There are drafts waiting to be finished. Heavy topics that are hard for me to write about. Happy topics that are full of wonderful emotions that are hard for me to write about.

Instead, I’m here with random thoughts. A culmination of the heavy and happy topics I so wish to jot down. A middle ground so to speak, that you can read between the lines on what’s really going on in my world. Or you can just enjoy it as is.

Through all my hard and happy moments lately, I have come to the conclusion that I am getting old. I’m aging. Maturing? Yes, but that starts to get into the heavy and hard.

With only two years left in my twenties, I am fully realizing that I cannot do the things I used to do with ease and grace (Just kidding, I was am the Queen of the Klutz). Still, I never thought I’d feel old until I was actually old.

So, maybe I am. Actually old. Here’s why I think that I am old.

  • Every morning I wake up and feel the need to pop pain relievers and anti-inflammatory drugs just to ward off any pains that may come my way. Joints that click and crunch. Muscles that spasm and ache.
  • I can no longer sleep through the night. Falling asleep is hard. Waking up is impossible. When I want to. But when I’m not looking to take a nap, I fall asleep. And when I don’t want to wake up, I do.
  • I’ve developed food allergies/sensitivities. None of these have been confirmed by a medical professional, but believe me, I find myself avoiding foods that I used to devour because of their after effects. I nod along in agreement with commercials promising relief from foods I can longer consume.
  • I can give advice on cloth diapers, baby wipes, formula, bottles, car seats, and cribs from memory. Even though I do not have a kid nor am I with child. Shocker, I know.
  • Between the morning hours of 5 and 6, I can text my friends and guarantee a prompt reply because I know they are up for work or their infant child.
  • My Facebook feed consists of engagement announcements, engagement pictures, wedding pictures, baby bump announcements, baby albums, pet parent posts, marathon pictures, and Extreme Home Make-over stories.
  • When I meet new people, I’d rather find them on LinkedIn than Facebook.Stalking their connections rather than their friends.
  • After work, I want to go to bed. But have to do adult things like cook and clean.
  • My weekends are spent doing chores, grocery shopping, and paying bills.
  • I buy my parents gifts for their anniversary and non-Christmas holidays.
  • I read self-help books because I want to.
  • I schedule doctor’s appointments for aches and pains and go on medications to ward off old age.
  • When I meet college kids, I think of how similar we are. Until I talk to them and have no idea what they are referring to.
  • Every conversation begins and ends in, “Have you tried EHarmony?” Every. Conversation.
  • My go-to yogurt is Activia. Plain vanilla.
  • The minute I get home, I put on sweats.
  • Meeting friends for breakfast at 8 am on Saturday is better than meeting friends for dinner on Saturday at 8 pm.
  • I can say, “Oh, he’s a cute kid” when referring to college kids and not get weird looks.
  • I write my shopping lists based on coupons.
  • Songs from my high school days are called “retro” by a local radio station
  • The majority of parties I’m invited to are: bridal and baby showers, Tupperware, Premier Designs, Thirty-One, Pamperd Chef, and charity events.
  • Typically, I know more about national and international events than I do anything in pop culture.
  • I shop more for household items, bakeware/cookware, and “essentials” than clothes, shoes, and accessories.
  • When adventurous activities present themselves I say things like, “I can’t get hurt, I have to work” or “I think I’ll opt out this time around, I don’t want to over do it.”

There ya have it. Reasons why I feel old. They may seem silly to you, I can hardly believe I admitted some of them myself. But they are all true. Maybe you agree because you’re experiencing the same thing. Perhaps you are shaking your head telling me, “wait twenty years.” Whatever your stance on the matter, I hope you’ll agree that getting older isn’t all bad. But there I go again, getting into the heavy and hard. I’ll save those thoughts for later.

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