Excuse Me, I Don't Have Time to Get Old

This is how I know I'm getting old:

Sleeping in means sleeping until 8am, if I'm lucky.
Pizza is no longer an acceptable breakfast food.
I enjoy silence.  In fact, I crave it.
I enjoy watching the birds and other wildlife in the yard.  I might think about feeding them.
I'm sitting at the dinner table eating, rather than on the couch.  And the TV isn't on.
I have no intention of turning it on, because I love silence.
Having a hangover is my biggest fear in life.
It takes almost two days to recover from a night of drinking.
Everything is stiff and sore.
I haven't been to White Castle in years.
Eighty percent of what I hear on the radio makes my ears bleed.
Granny panties and all the fun colors and patterns they come in.
My ideal vacation is somewhere where everyone will leave me the hell alone.
The boy and I are beyond excited to be in bed before 10pm on a Friday night.
I'll drink water over soda and wine over beer any day.
My diet revolves around what won't make my poop my pants. 


I know I'm not that old, I'll be 32 in August.  In ten years I'll make another list of reasons why being old sucks and see how much it has changed.  I'm not a whiner.  But sometimes I complain a lot.  I also know that a lot of the things on that list I have the power to change.  And I plan on doing just that.  I do!  Maybe tomorrow, because now it's time for bed!  ;)