As some of you know, this past Sunday was my 31st birthday. What you might not have known is that on said birthday, I think I skipped some years. Because apparently, I’m 47 years old now. Let me explain.
Back in the day (don’t you love overused phrases? I know I do!), I could stay up with anybody. 1am, 2am, even 3am…no problem. In fact, back when I was building the company application for dad’s business, 2am was standard. Go to work during normal business hours, and code on that app from about 10pm-2am. It was nothing. Get up at 5am to start the process all over again? Sure. Bring it.
Alas, I am now 47 years old. I go to bed (routinely) between 9:30pm and 10pm. I even have to have a mid-evening nap sometimes just to make it to 10. I’m old.
What freaked me out even more is that I have started to drink coffee. Wait, let me preface that. You hardcore, addicted, coffee nuts are probably going to shoot bullets at me for even calling what I drink coffee, but bear with me. I have NEVER liked coffee. I tried it once when I was 15 and then tried once again when I got to college. Never liked it. Didn’t appeal at all. I even wondered why it was so freaking popular because it was so nasty.
My mistake both of those times was trying to drink coffee straight. Not black, just with a couple of creamers or such. Not the way to start, apparently. No, it took someone introducing me to the idea of a mocha to get me drinking it. (This is, in fact, all your fault, Aaron.) Sugar eases everything! On a recent business trip, he got me a peppermint mocha from Starbucks. Pretty good, actually. Mostly because I love all things peppermint. Got one last week. Expensive (who knew?!), but good. So, this morning, what do I end up with? Mocha, minus the peppermint. At this rate, I’ll be drinking straight black by Labor Day. Balls.
Anyway, the point is I feel old. I actually need a lot of sleep and I’m starting to drink coffee. I might be the oldest 30-turned-47-year old you know.