Feeling my age

So here we're already a third of the way through January 2005 already. Amazing how fast it goes, isn't it? And that odd word that I've been trying to adjust to still haven't sunken in. I have less than 24 hours to get used to it.

thirty. Thirrrr-teeeee. thirrr--tEEEE.

It doesn't roll off the tongue well yet. I've been too used to saying twenty-something for a decade now. And I thought changing from -teen was weird.

Actually, no-- the weirdest one was twenty-five. At some point in grade school-- I was probably in first or second grade (given that we'd be learning addition and subtraction at that point), it dawned on me that in the year 2000, I would be 25 years old. I recall that it sounded SO old and SO far away. And because I'm a born-on-a-quarter baby, it's easy to figure out exactly which year I'll be what age. But twenty-five sounded so incredibly old. I was going to be *gasp* an adult! And probably married. With kids.

I got to twenty-five. No marriage. A scare of kids. I had never felt so young and immature and clueless in my life. Twenty-five was a very rough year. Emotionally, physically, professionally. Twenty-five was that year where the living-as-if-in-college really finally stopped and I had to get my shit in gear. Or at least had to start trying. It's not all quite in gear yet-- but it's getting there. And I'm feeling like pieces are starting to fit together.

I've heard thirty is the new twenty. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. But what I thought would have come together about five to ten years ago is finally starting to gel.

But thirty still sounds old.