The Old Fart

I like running ahead of the group - (figuratively of course. Those of you who may have had the misfortunate of being in PE with me will surely remember the chubby, out of shape, socially awkward teenager wheezing miles behind the last runner...). I seem to have been the youngest in a lot of things - most of my college classes, the sisters in my branch at the MTC, my department at work. I like being the youngest. I like having a false, unearned sense that I am doing something with my life sooner than the average person.

But I have reached a horrible point in my life - that sense of accomplishment has completely crumbled. I am no longer the youngest. I have passed the mark of 'mid-20's'. I find myself telling people that I am 27 and calculating life as though I were 27 and only have 3 more years until I'm 30 and kicked out of my singles ward, because obviously once you pass the mark of 25, what's one more year? But I'm NOT 27 - I am barely 26! It's like Christmas every time I remember that I have 4 years until I'm 30 and kicked out of my singles ward (among other things). And what was previously completely unachievable in 3 years is most certainly attainable in 4! I just hope I don't squander this precious little secret year that I've found. :)