"You Sir, are old!"
One of my best friends turns thirty this month, yet I feel like we're still in high school together (and Sara would say when my friend and I are together we act like it) but there is a larger part of me (and I am not talking about my expanding waistline) that feels really,
really
old.
For example, the Red Sox have once again made the playoffs but there was no way in hell I was staying up to watch the entire first game against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, who not only will lose the series to my beloved Red Sox, but also have a terribly long and stupid name. The game started at 10pm, which ten years ago would have been an optimal time to have my first Mountain Dew of the evening but which is currently an optimal time to have my first Tylenol PM.
How did this happen? I blame Natalie.
Before Natalie or B.N., which sounds disturbingly like B.M. so I won't use it again, I was still a night owl. I would stay up till midnight doing important things like writing poems, surfing the Internet, and watching South Park re-runs. Now if I'm up at midnight it is to put Natalie back to sleep before crumpling back into bed myself.
There are other signs that my age is catching up with me:
1. I ache for no apparent reason especially when it is cold.
2. I look forward to going to the grocery store.
3. I drink Green Tea.
4. I haven't played a video game in over six months.
5. I turned on the TV weeks ago and had no idea who was pitching for the Red Sox.
6. I think about my cholesterol more than once every year.
7. I have a retirement plan.
8. Cashiers card me at the grocery store but always have a smile that says, "I know you are over 21 but I have to do this anyway you old-fart."
It's disheartening. Luckily every time I start feeling especially old, I get to see the world through Natalie's adorable little eyes, as she discovers some new truth about the world like gravity, running is harder to do than walking, or that the Red Sox are awesome.
I'm going to get us both a couple Mountain Dews and hunker down in front of the TV for game two tonight, unless of course I pass out before it starts...
really
old.
For example, the Red Sox have once again made the playoffs but there was no way in hell I was staying up to watch the entire first game against the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, who not only will lose the series to my beloved Red Sox, but also have a terribly long and stupid name. The game started at 10pm, which ten years ago would have been an optimal time to have my first Mountain Dew of the evening but which is currently an optimal time to have my first Tylenol PM.
How did this happen? I blame Natalie.
Before Natalie or B.N., which sounds disturbingly like B.M. so I won't use it again, I was still a night owl. I would stay up till midnight doing important things like writing poems, surfing the Internet, and watching South Park re-runs. Now if I'm up at midnight it is to put Natalie back to sleep before crumpling back into bed myself.
There are other signs that my age is catching up with me:
1. I ache for no apparent reason especially when it is cold.
2. I look forward to going to the grocery store.
3. I drink Green Tea.
4. I haven't played a video game in over six months.
5. I turned on the TV weeks ago and had no idea who was pitching for the Red Sox.
6. I think about my cholesterol more than once every year.
7. I have a retirement plan.
8. Cashiers card me at the grocery store but always have a smile that says, "I know you are over 21 but I have to do this anyway you old-fart."
It's disheartening. Luckily every time I start feeling especially old, I get to see the world through Natalie's adorable little eyes, as she discovers some new truth about the world like gravity, running is harder to do than walking, or that the Red Sox are awesome.
I'm going to get us both a couple Mountain Dews and hunker down in front of the TV for game two tonight, unless of course I pass out before it starts...
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