I’m getting old

Now before I again here protests from the older crowd that, truly, 26 is not old, I beg to differ. It’s all a matter of perspective, anyways. And yes, blah blah blah, age isn’t a number it’s how old you feel, blah blah blah. I’ve been known to be silly and for the most part I feel fairly “young at heart” still. My body doth protest.

Friday night I had to leave ‘s early, because I had to get home and I was tired. It was 11:30. That’s ridiculous! What happened to the days of staying up until 2?

And then I woke up at 8:30 on Saturday! Again, that’s not sleeping in!

Also, my tastes have started to change, in terms of food. I have a major sweet tooth. I love the sweets, the sugar, the chocolates, and frankly, often wonder how I’m not 300 pounds. Good genes. Anyways, in the past year, I seem to need less sweet than I used to. Case in point. Starbucks offers the Eggnog Latte during the holiday season, and last year I had them put a shot of vanilla in it every time, which grossed most people out. This year? No need. It tastes fine. Same with the Gingerbread Latte, and the Caramel Hi-Rise at Caribou. What’s going on?

I’m getting old. No grey hair yet, though. My little sister has some. Hehe.

Can I get old if I don’t own a home or a car or a boy? I don’t think the fish counts. He tried to jump out and bite me today. I think he wants some fish lovin’. But it ain’t happening. Get over it.