I’m nearing my 33rd birthday. Ever since I wrote the post 31 Feels Like Getting Really Excited About Trying A New Broom, it comes to mind again and again.
33 still feels like Uncle Rico trying to throw a football over them mountains. 33 knows a lot of Uncle Ricos. Basically everyone is Uncle Rico.
33 has heard Bob Seger’s “Against the Wind” many times, but, feels a punch to the gut when she really listens to the lyrics for the first time.
33 feels excited about getting new gutters.
33 revels in wearing sensible shoes. Heels, panty hose and panty lines be damned.
33 plans bi-annual lightbulb dates. These involve taking inventory of all of our burnt out bulbs, going to the homestore, buying the bulbs and replace, experiencing more excitement than the situation might dictate.
33 is (ironically) grateful she grew up before every moment and second could be documented and shared on smartphones and social media platforms.
33 gives herself permission to change. To accept that she is not the same person that she was 10 years ago, let alone five years ago, one year ago, or five minutes. 33 also tries to give others the same grace.
33 no longer snickers at the adults getting a little bit rowdy over drinks at homecomings or busting a move ever so enthusiastically on a public dance floor. Because that’s us now.
33 understands some of the things her parents did. She catches herself muttering things like, “So this is why my parents listened to easy-listening music” and understands why her mom’s mantra was “Get everything in writing” and why she made Finnish Oven Pancakes for dinner so often.
33 essentially feels the same inside as she has all along which makes getting older feel all the more puzzling and all the stranger.
What’s uncool will become ironically cool again until it becomes too cool and then completely basic after which it will become trash until it’s cool again. Red Lobster, rosé, flannel, denim jackets. . . I guess this is really all just to say that you should like what you like.
Time moves so fast. It’s impossible to go back in time and you can’t slow it. But you can do more with your time, whether it means packing more in or being more present. Living for the weekends is one way to grow old really quickly.
So don’t. Let’s go.