I’m an adult. There, I said it. Even in saying it I must admit to finding it difficult to believe. For the record, I’m not all that old given how new I am into the decade I find myself in. Still, there’s this point at which I’ve discovered that you should no longer assume that everyone else is older than you. For me that’s when the fiftieth person or so ends up not only younger than you, but younger by several years. Ouch!
This literally has my head spinning a bit. The last two episodes of “Cake Boss” that I’ve watched had thirtieth birthday cakes on them. My response while watching the show with my parents and sister over the last holiday weekend? “I don’t look that old, do I?” Midlife crisis this is not, but it’s still something I’m having difficulties wrapping my head around.
The worst part? I was perusing Facebook the other day. I have a Facebook account, but it’s not under my actual name and I only created it so that I could view the information for an event that was coming up. I was a bit irritated that I had to create the account just to go to the thing, but I’ve kept the account ever since.
Sometimes I consider changing it and including my actual information since there are a few people from college I’d like to connect with again, but I resist given my husband’s job. Double standard considering this here blog? Probably. I searched a time or two through my High School or college to see if I recognize anyone. With my High School there are actually names that I read and think “Who?” Neither our class nor my hometown is all that large. How is this possible?
Interestingly enough, I’ve never been invited to a class reunion. For the five year I heard it was because they didn’t have my address – odd given that it was the same as the one I had when I was actually in High School. I’ve never bothered to correct it. Several reunions have come and gone and I’ve decided that I’m more than ok with it. Aside from those tumultuous years in Middle School when several of my less than kind classmates made it their personal mission to make my life a living hell (and my parents considered private school as a result) I was largely ignored. Prom? Everyone said you just had to go or you would regret it. I went…and regretted going, but I digress.
The other thing that struck me while I was doing this lately? Man, so many of them look old! The guys are balding and most of them look nothing like I can remember. Seriously…just exactly when did I become an adult?
Yes, yes, I know it’s probably around the time that I became a mother of three. Apparently I’ve been living in denial all this time.