I feel old.
Where is my spritely self?
Hidden, probably, behind the bags under my eyes. Oy.
I really can’t believe I’ll be the big 3-0 come February.
That realization FREAKS. ME. OUT.
I’m not *almost 30.* I’m still a kid. I still like coloring books and playing on the playground and summer vacation (!!!!!!) (whatever happened to that, anyway, real world? FAIL).
I guess that’s why I now *have* a kid. So I can do all the cool stuff and not look like a moron.
Getting old(er) is scary. There are still so many things I want to do. I never even MADE a “to do before I am 30″ bucket list. Oops? Granted, I had one in my brain and having a child was one of them so…check that one off. Wait second…..if memory serves me correctly…I did make a list…lemme see if I can find it….
Right where I left it…in my wallet, collecting dust and never even looked at except the day I made it…and maybe the next day after that…however many years ago…because I don’t even remember…I don’t even think I’ve shown this to anyone before – including Tim – so consider yourselves privileged.
The post its are a recent addition.
Maybe I should make a new list…the ‘before I’m 35 list’ that includes improving my penmanship because WOW that definitely says “three” on the pink post-it flag corresponding to the marathons…yes. A new list…I’ll do it right after I’m done playing with this cutie-patootie……..which means when he’s 18.
And then I guess at that point I’ll be over 35…wait. Isn’t there a rule somewhere that says I get to keep celebrating my 29th birthday?