![]() |
|
![]() |
|||||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
||||||||||||
Little bit hung over today. I think there's something wrong with my brain... Not in a real sense of wrong; in a drama-queen everything-is-10-million-times-worse-than-it-actually-is sense of wrong. I greeted one of my friends at seven in the morning on saturday with "So, how was your weekend?" He just looked at me funny and reminded me what day it was. And today, until about ten minutes ago, I was convinced it was Sunday. I think I need a transplant. I'm going out for drinks tonight with a whole bunch of people I don't know. Well, with a workmate who I do know and his wife plus their 'crew' who I don't. I still find it odd that I'm old enough to have friends my age that have wives or husbands. Usually I feel like I'm about eight years old! All my friends are making lifelong commitments to things and doing crazy stuff like renovating their houses (which they Own!) and having babies. Meanwhile, I'm considering buying another My Little Pony to add to my collection. Sad but true. I used to be one of those kids that was always told "Oh, you're so mature for your age! I keep forgetting you're only....." I think I've regressed. Now people say "Wow! You're twenty-eight? I thought you were like, twenty-one or something!" So when I was eight, people thought I was twelve, and now that I'm twenty-eight (well, nearly. My birthdays next Sunday), I feel eight and others think I'm twenty-one. I don't know what to make of that. I guess it doesn't really matter does it? Post a comment in response: |
| © 2002-2008. Blurty Journal. All rights reserved. |