It was the first time that I honestly felt old. I almost
felt doopy in a way. I feel like I’m in that middle stage of everything. I
don’t feel like I should be wearing what an eighteen-year-old sports as she
heads to the movies with friends. And I surely don’t want to be seen in
anything from the Von Maur women’s department (unless it’s that expensive
section with all of the designer clothes). The last few times I’ve gone out, I've felt like a teacher. Ugh. I really hate this (no offense to all of my lovely
fellow teachers out there). I have always been pretty conservative, but
stylish. For some reason, I feel like I’ve lost this. Maybe I am just freaking
out, but something has got to change… like, soon.
Or, as they say now: "This shit's cray." (That means crazy for any of you newbies) |
Towards the end of the trip I realized that this sense of
feeling old was not all that bad. In many respects, I felt like it was my role
to “play mom.” I didn’t want to stay up late and gossip with a bunch of
teenagers. How weird would that be? I suppose it would be best to just embrace
my age – not too old and not too young. This bittersweet realization is
something I can live with.
P.S. I just heard a couple of twelve-year-olds use the term
“boss.” Yes, I’m very glad I’m not in junior high again. The twenties are where
it’s at!
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