So is it a coincidence that my last meal as a 34 year old is accompanied by stiffness and 5 restroom breaks(yes, count them! Five!)? That's what happened earlier this evening as I was having a lovely birthday eve dinner with a friend; I got up to use the bathroom (for the first time during dinner) and it felt as if my skin was tighter along my joints and I had to shake off the thought that I'd need baby aspirins before bed from now on, like my mother. Now, I've been dealing with arthritis in my knees and back since I was 25, so I'm used to that, but there was something extra poetic about the stiffness hitting me so hard on the eve of my 35th birthday. You see, I'm entering a new age demographic: 35-44.
With the exception of being able to run for President of the United States, 35 is alittle hard for me. I don't know, 34 didn't really bother me, but now, I'm over that hump, or really, right on top of it, 35! I feel kind of like Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally," when she says, "But I'm going to be 40!" and she's only 32 in the movie and after Billy Crystal asks "When?" she says, "Someday!" And he says, "In eight years!" and she replies ".....it's just starring at me, like some dead end!" Yep, 35 sounds alot older than 34. And of course, my husband just added to my shock by informing me that not only am I in a new age demographic, but in radio(his field) I'm in the 35-64 age demographic! Seriously(?), I'm supposed to have a ton in common with "golden girls?!" I bought UGGS last year! I doubt there are many 58 year olds running around with knitted UGGS! But I suppose that WAS when I was 34 and in a different age demographic. ;)
So anyhow, during the last hour of my 34th year, I honored my consistent role as home improvement night owl and finished painting the half bath. Of course, I was in my cozy bathrobe with a full bladder, and emptying it did not become a priority to me until midnight. See, wisdom at 35! Anyway, I didn't mean to paint the whole bathroom at 11pm but you know how these things happen. I started with just some touch ups and then, the next thing you know, I'm standing on a stepstool with most of the bathroom done and paint running down the front of my robe and my legs. I didn't even notice until the paint that was in my hair dipped into my cleavage and the cold startled me. I can honestly say that in all the years of my painting walls, I have never spilled paint before tonight!
So there I was, naked and assessing my clean up job in the kitchen and bathroom. I only had alittle wall left to paint and wanted to get it done before I indulged myself with a first birthday snack of bread and butter (doesn't that sound good?). And really, I didn't have time to go upstairs and get another shirt that might get dirty, so I wound up at the end of my 11th hour of age 34, with a paint brush in hand and in my original birthday suit!
Hmm, now I wonder what demographic that belongs in?