The other day I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror at my office and realized, for the first first time, "My gosh! I look my age!"
I know, this sounds silly.
But I am 5 feet tall. I have always been told I looked young for my age. And I hated hearing it every.single.time. Mostly because I had to agree that those people were right.
I am not sure if it is the silver threading itself through my hair. Or the wrinkles slowly creeping out from my eyes and above my nose. Or the look of resignation in my eyes. Or the semi-permanent smudges that reside beneath them.
The realization that I would very likely NOT be carded should I attempt to buy a drink at a bar was shocking. Considering it has been more than a decade since I dragged the Hoos and his roommate, poor Kurt, out to the Red Lion at midnight to celebrate my 21st, I guess it was inevitable.
Now I just have to convince the Hoos that we should go out to a bar and buy drinks.