Here's the thing.
Today is my birthday.
But not just any birthday. I'm now officially 20 years old.
That's cool... I guess.
The idea of being 20 is taking a bit of time to warm up to. I hear that now that I'm not a teenager I can't get away with doing crazy and random things anymore.
(Not like that'll stop me, but the taboo is there).
Where's the glamor in getting old?
For Pete's sake! I had to use "anti-aging" body wash this past weekend.
The occasional grey hair and wrinkle?
Menopause and MORE hot flashes?
Gosh. I'm not ready for old age! I've got a life to live!
Things to learn. Friends to make. Boys to kiss. Tea parties to attend. Talents to develop. Food to taste. Forgiveness to ask. Sites to see. Goals to achieve. Barriers to break.
The list goes on and on.
And I want to soak it all in.
But then I suppose that really is the glamor of it all.
It's just a matter of perspective.
We'll all be old in the end, but we'll all take different paths there.
Life in the fast lane?
Not for me, thanks for the offer anyway though.
That's all about crossing things off the list, not so much the actual experience.
I don't want the fast lane.
How about the scenic byway?
Yeah. Alright. That sounds delightful!
Don't get me wrong. I'm excited for retirement as much as the next person, but until then I won't be dreading getting older.
Just living my life.
Happy as a clam.
I may get older, but I'll never grow up.