Okay, hi, guys. I’m going to be upfront with you right now. This is just a blog post leading you to an article I posted on another website. If you clicked on the link to this blog on my Facebook or Twitter, which then lead you here under the false pretenses that there would be something to read, only to find another link to click on, then I am very sorry you fell for my Russian nesting doll of lies. I had to do it (for my site analytics).
Anyway, that was just a long way of priming you for the fact that an article of mine is posted on Aiming Low.
5 Things I’m Too Old for Now
Thanks in advance if you choose to comment on the article, but like, pretend you don’t know me, you know?
I’m at an age where many of my friends, acquaintances, and people I don’t really know (but I feel like I know because I spend so much tracking their baby bump progress on Facebook) are settling down. It always starts with your high school friends and acquaintances. You can tell which girls will get married or pregnant first based on how over plucked their eyebrows are. Don’t ask me why it’s true, but “if their brow bones aren’t hairy, they’re the first ones to marry” is a great rule of thumb.
Next comes your college friends. At around 25, the wedding invitations start trickling in. Then from their it’s just the slow death march of all your friends moving back to the suburbs to start mommy blogs while you’re in the middle of the city screaming “but I’m an independent woman!!!” to no one.
But that’s the way it must be for some of us. I’m just mature enough to know that I’m way too immature to be in charge of another human for a very long time. I could be trusted to watch a child. I’m a great baby sitter. I do this thing when I tuck the kids in: “snug as a bug in a rug.” They die over it. But when you’re baby sitting, you’re with these kids, what? 5, 6 hours? The likelihood of you accidentally killing them in that amount of time is low. If I’m entrusted with a baby 24 hours a day 7 days a week…. let’s just say I can’t believe more people don’t forget that they left their kid sleeping in a hot car.
And THAT, my friends is only one reason why giving me a baby a mistake, but there are many more, like:
- Everyone would get tired of my 24 year old self whining, “this is kids raising kids!”
I like to think that the red head I’m most like is Lucille Ball, but I know it’s really Garfield.
- I am lazy. Last night I slept in my bra because it would have been too much to wrestle that thing out of my sweatshirt.
- My desired sleep schedule is closest to a baby bear suffering from mono in winter. If I don’t get my 12 hours a night, I am just incorrigible.
Garbage Pail Kids Movie
- I don’t like anything gross, and babies are just a sticky ball of uncontrollable bodily functions. Up until very recently, if my dogs pooped in the house, I would just pretend not to see it until someone else in my house did. And that only stopped because my dogs stopped pooping in the house.
Case in point.
- 9 months of no drinking is not an option yet. If you are not ready to give up pumpkin beer for a whole season, I think that’s the clearest indicator that you are not ready for children.
- At this point, if I had a child and gave up on my career for them, they would have no chance of being allowed to pursue any other interest besides drug addled child star with a fame-obsessed mom-ager with hair extensions way too long for her age.
- I don’t like having to smell things as a detection method. Like when someone sticks something in your face and says “hey, smell this, does this smell weird?” Parents always seem to be smelling things to figure out if it’s something that came out of a baby, and I’m not up for that kind of case work. This is not Law and Order: SV-P.U.
That’s my time! Thanks, you guys! Don’t forget to tip your waitress!
I’m nearly 24 years old now, and though that apparently makes me an adult in the eyes of everyone but the rental car industry, I sometimes forget that I’m not a teenager anymore. It happens every so often, like when my ID gets the once over at the liquor store, and I have to remind myself that it was legally issued to me by the government, not for $60 by a BU sophomore THAT NEVER EVEN WORKED FOR ME ONCE!
Drinking openly at brunch is certainly a perk of adulthood, but there are a few things I took for granted when I was a kid that now I’m just too old for, like:
- I’ll never be a child prodigy. If someone discovered me to be outrageously talented at something Oprah wouldn’t even care; as an adult you’re just supposed to be talented by now. No one is making collectible dolls out of Susan Boyle, meanwhile little Jackie Evancho Barbies sit lonely on Toys ‘R Us shelves at Christmas. Maybe Ellen Degeneres will care if I’m a 24 year old speed rapper, but it’s not the same.
This looks like a fun romp. Hey, Godfrey!
- Being unemployed is no longer acceptable. Suddenly everyone is an amateur sleuth asking a million questions about what you do for work. It’s a bad economy- just leave it alone, okay! I miss the days when I could pass off huge gaps in my resume as a time when “school was my full time job.” I did eat tapas on dollar nights at Masa like it was my job, but I don’t think I ever spent 40 hours a week on homework. Those were romantic times.
This could have been me!!!
- The ship has sailed for me and Teen Mom. Not that I wanted to be on Teen Mom, but I like keeping my options open. Now I have to wait another 15 years until I’m age appropriate enough to pursue my “Wife” fallback career, be it House, Army, or Mob. Not a girl, not yet a woman.
- I’ll never be shipped off to my distant aunt’s house to tame my wild ways only to unexpectedly have the best summer of my life when the dreamy 17 year old orphaned ranch hand and an unruly horse named Thunder teach me how to love again after tearing down the walls I built up during my secret struggle with illiteracy (BIG BREATH). Turns out, I didn’t mean to wander on to the old, neighborhood curmudgeon’s private property, I just couldn’t read the “no trespassing sign.” Ahhh, what could have been.
- Getting up early on Saturday’s to watch TV is now out of the question. There are times when I think that if the fire alarm went off in my house, I’d need a second to decide if it was really worth getting out of bed. The idea of something like Saved By the Bell having the power to get me up before 8am on a Saturday is so bizarre that I can’t believe at one time in my life I was that excited about anything, let alone Mario Lopez.
I hope this was uplifting.