A horrible thought occurred to me last night during my latest bout of insomnia. My mental age is about 21, but my physical age is 30. My body gets older (and fatter) but my brain stays 21. I've always gotten along better with people younger than me, but I fear that as I get older it just makes me look like an old fart who's trying to relive my youth. Yes, I realize that 30 is really not old, but it's still older than my mental age. Being a single mom doesn't help. I would love to hang out, run around, and have fun like I used to but the rugrat puts a damper on the social life. Don't get me wrong. I love Alexander more than anyone else on Earth. It's just that I wish I could still be "cool" or at least go out more than I do. It seems like when I do go out, I can't get the "oh boy I'm out" feeling out of my head. People have always told me I looked younger than I am until recently. I no longer get carded for alcohol. I look like I'm about 50 in my new driver's license icture. I guess I was wrong when I told
Barry that Almost 30 Syndrome goes away once you actually hit 30. It went away for awhile, but came back tenfold about a month later. Dammit!
OK, I'll stop bitching. I'll make everyone commit suicide. I'll post again after my pity party.
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