Sis and I were chatting this morning over breakfast, and part of the conversation went like this:Sis: Well, you are 33 this year….. Me: No, I’m 32. Sis: Huh, nope you ARE 33… Me: Am I? *starts to count on fingers* Sis: Yes…I am 31 this year and you are two years older, remember? Me: *finger counting working*…Oh yeah, you are right. I AM 33 this year. Where did the time go? Sis: ……
And I have been filling in 32 for the “age” field in all my forms and whatnot so far this year. Oopsie!
Not the first time that this happened. Few years back, I was convinced I was 28 when I was only 27. Took my friend who was the same age as I was a long time to convince me otherwise. Obviously I wasn’t so good at mental sums then.
I think I kind of stopped fixating on my age when I realized that marriage and kids were never going to be part of my life. The former doesn’t want to associate with me and I don’t want to associate with the latter. Haha. Actually, after all these years of being single, I am beginning to think that marriage is kind of overrated too.
I guess if these two components are out of the life equation, age stop mattering so much. No “shelf life” to worry about, not a perishable any more!