I turn 30 in five months.
This is not something I’m even remotely concerned about; in fact, I’m kinda looking forward to it. Thirty has so much more gravitas than 29, though I have a feeling that a number of my remaining shenanigans are going to have to die quick and quiet deaths via a maturity sniper (I’ll keep a few alive, I promise!) as there’s a fair bit more you can get away with in your twenties than in your (*cough*) thirties.
But that’s not what I want to write about today.
Since returning from Italy, it feels as though I’ve been living my life in the eye of a hurricane; change is swirling and churning around me, and I’ve been quickly burning a path over the terrain below. And for every massive change on the exterior, I’ve noted an incremental shift within. Last week, I finally identified what that was. Holy sh*t. I’m getting older, at a seemingly more rapid pace than ever before.
So just how did this growth… er… aging process manifest itself? Here are just a few of the signs that smacked me across the face:
- Suddenly I find that I have opinions about sinks. I never thought I would give a hoot about a sink. Once upon a time, that’s where I simply filled my glass with water and half-heartedly washed a dish or two. But now, oh yes, I most definitely have an opinion about sinks: the height of the faucet, the depth of the sink and placement of the disposal. With this in mind, I have a minor beef with the sink in my (awesome) new apartment, but given that I can look out over changing foliage as I scrub-a-dub, I guess I can forgive a few minor grievances. But know this: one day, when I own my own place, I’m going to have incredible kitchen and bathroom sinks. And excellent lighting. And a double oven. Oooooh baby.
- Once upon a time, when I was a princess living in the magical kingdom with my Roomie, I was an accomplished loller-abouter. It was ever so easy to just sit and watch TV for hours and hours. I could never understand why Roomie was such a bustling busy-bee, only acquiescing to watch ONE show with me a night when we clearly had time for at least two before bedtime. But, now I get it. It is impossible to sit when there’s organizing or cleaning to do. Now, I find myself zooming around the apartment with my yellow, frilly rubber gloves on, scrubbing away like Cinderella on uppers. I am surprisingly fanatical about gleaming counter tops, a made bed, and my couch cushions just so…
- When I was much more wild and immature (like, 3 months ago), I always WANTED to go to the farmers’ market on Saturday mornings, but I only really ever experienced Saturday mornings via closed eyelids. Now I will brunch, shop, and be ready for a nap all before my previous wake-up time. And it is so cool to be so productive!
- Whereas not so long ago I used to lust for shoes and dresses, I now find myself shunning these fancies of my youth and longing for throw pillows and kitchen gadgets. Especially kitchen gadgets. And most of all, a red Kitchenaid mixer. Life would be complete (and exceptionally delicious) if only I had this in my kitchen:
What about you? How did you notice you were getting older?