I've never been one of those people who really cared too much about age. I always thought getting older was much better than the alternative...death. So, I enjoyed birthdays and adding that extra number onto my age. When I was young I was very proud of myself for being older, as though I had something to do with it. And I guess to some extent, I did help keep me alive by being somewhat responsible and such.
Last year was a different story though. Last year I turned 25. The big 2-5! I realize, when I'm much older I will look back and laugh at how ridiculous it is to be bothered by the number 25. But as a 20-something right now, in this moment, and even more so in that moment of turning 25... it's a big deal. 25 is "mid twenties" when your parents are describing the ages of their kids, it's like being an official adult (eww) and means new expectations are set out. All this sorta came looming down on me on the day of my birth last year, and it sucked! Not to mention my actual celebration... I'm not sure you can call it that, was less than exciting, with me ending up being the DD (designated driver, not my boob size- sadly).
This year, was much different. Brandon planned my surprise party and proposed to me. Way better, right? Yup, until now. Now that more than a month has passed since I turned 26, it's becoming real. Guys I'm in my... mid to LATE twenties!! What?! How did that happen? Wasn't I just 3 years old- locking my babysitter (now one of my bridesmaids) in my child-lock equipped room? Wasn't I 9 years old running a summer school program and bullying the neighbourhood kids into attending? I could have sworn I was 18 and still enjoying driving so much I'd make any excuse to pick things up for my mom or friends. No? Really? Are you sure? Crap.
So, now that I'm 26, things about getting older are becoming more obvious. And try as I may to ignore them, I simply can't.
- your metabolism slows down: this one sucks big time! No longer can I eat whatever crap I want without any repercussions. In a year's time I have managed to gain almost 10 pounds... not a drastic amount, but enough on my small stature to notice. And I don't even eat a lot of crap- and the last few months (minus the odd snack or treat) I've been trying to eat healthy. And I go to the gym- not as often as I should, mind you- but I go more than the average person I'd say. You know, the ones that don't have a membership and stuff. Anyway, Brandon's sister, who is 21, has this ridiculous body. Ridiculous-good, not ridiculous- bad. And I kind of hate her for it, because she can literally eat anything and stay her flat stomached self!
- my body doesn't recover as well: Brandon tried to show me some new exercises at the gym, except they were, like, intense exercises! He'll tell you they were basic... but really, who are you going to believe? The next day, my body was in excruciating pain. Yup... Excruciating! Before, you know, back when I was younger, I would have been ready to do it again the next day. Heck, I probably wouldn't have found those exercises as hard. I used to worked on farms for more than 10 years and never once was really sore from the work. Stupid body.
- my eyesight is getting worse: I've been wearing glasses since I was in the second grade, and for a while, my prescription stayed the same, but for the last 5 years it's just gotten worse as time has gone on. I'm fairly certain, one day when I'm 75, my glasses will be 3 inches thick... that is unless technology works in my favour and all the prescription portion of the glasses is within tiny, thin pieces of glass. That, or Brandon is just going to have to be my eyes, while I take care of the hearing (since his is already basically gone)
I guess we can all be thankful that my mind is still in perfect, wonderful, working order! ...right?