Dear almost-30-year-old self,
Hey. How ya doin? Nice little life you got going here. Let's cut the chase, shall we? You're not 18 anymore. You may think you are and sometimes other people may think it as well, mostly because you still say "like" way too much, many aspects of your body look like they haven't gone through puberty all the way yet and you've always got at least 2 zits going, but the fact is, time isn't fooled by poor grammar, a small chest and acne. You've lived almost thirty years on this earth and no matter what you do to try to defy that fact, like driving to Philly and staying out until 4 in the morning to see a band you're really into at the moment, you've still got to get up and feed your kids a bowl of cereal after 3 hours of sleep and function the next day. And guess what? You're not very good at it. Maybe you could have done it 10 years ago but you're getting older and you need your sleep, if not for being a nice mom and for your health in general, then definitely for your complexion. Now that I got that off my chest, like, how was the show? I bet it was worth it.
Sincerely,
Self-that-still-feels-18
6 comments:
Bolts of lightning would certainly strike me down if I were to chide you about these particular habits.
What do they say about birds of a feather...?
P.S. Hey, you like birds!
I'm still looking for my 21 year old self. She slipped through a black hole during pregnancy over 30 years ago, never to be seen again. Every once in a while someone hears a bleak cry for help.
One question: Just how many 16-year-olds did you bully to get the front row?
Yeah, well try arriving at girls camp on 4 hours of sleep, at 53.
NOT pretty...and I have a handful of Mia Maids at 2:30 the next morning, that can attest to that.
The first song needs more trash can lid.
Um...I was 18 yesterday.
I think...my memory is going...
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