There’s a type of conversation I end up having fairly often. Let me give you a few examples:
FULL DISCLOSURE: I turned 23 years old on July 18th of this year.
person: “Oh the 1980s! What silly things we did then!”
me: “You tell me, I wasn’t even born when that decade ended.”
person: “No way! I never would have guessed!”
person: “How old are you anyway? You’ve got to be at least [my true age +5 years].”
me: “Actually I’m only [my true age]”
person: “Oh wow! But you’re so mature!!!”
and then I usually end up trying to explain this anomaly, because I start to feel very uncomfortable about the whole thing. “Well I’m the oldest of six kids,” I usually say. As if that explains everything. It’s a little awkward [on my end].
These moments have stuck with me. And I think I’ve finally realized why.
Two prime examples of how our generation – MY generation – is expected to behave.
When you are twenty-two, you are supposed to be dance-partying, eating breakfast at midnight, and “happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time”.
Not happily married, pregnant, settling into a good job and home and such…while still dance-partying and eating breakfast at midnight.
[AKA: where I was at twenty-two. needless to say, I don’t identify with TSwift…]
It’s generally acceptable to not grow up and move on with your life. It’s like everyone suddenly develops a Peter Pan complex when they turn twenty.
I was going to write a long loquacious post all about what this means and how I feel about it, but I currently have an 8 month old who REALIZED Mom is doing something really cool and is now is tryto type on my laptop with me so that is just not going to happen today`. I’ll leave that as some food for thought today. Maybe I’lld CSOME NBACk to it. Only time will tell.
aqq8GY9UK0IQ222222222222222222j 2222222222222222222222222222222222222222bgfcye v
*“`typos `courtesy iof Daisyqs4eeee12eqd3e2. Lefe21t for your viewing pleasure.