Twenty Going on Forty

From an early age, I’ve come to accept that I am a 40-year-old person (gender not specified) trapped in a 20-year-old-girl’s body.

Who solidified this theory was my high school journalism teacher, Mr. Wenger. I was working on homework in his classroom at lunch (yes, nerd) when someone came up to me and said, “What is your favorite genre of music.” Immediately I rejected the question and panicked.

All I said was, “OH GOD I don’t know…I hate that questions…I love big old time jazz bands?”

Snooping from his desk, as usually, Wenger says, “Good God Heather, what are you? Forty? I don’t even listen to that music.”

Another instance that affirmed I was forty was when Andy Williams died. I found out at school and was so so sad. I ran into my journalism room to tell everyone the terrible news and the only person to respond was my journalism teacher, “Oh my god, was he a student here?”

And you know what? I love it. It’s a daily battle to survive in the twenty first century with my condition. It’s a comical battle. Especially when Sarah is cool as f*** and knows everything about anything. Kiani knows all the ins and outs of the social media and the “laws” of Instagram. And Bridget just easily fits into the realm of todays pop culture.  Even my boyfriend isn’t as far behind as I am and he’s from Texas.

I’m going to be relishing in my old age while Sarah is still gonna be cool as f***. Kiani will probably be 80 years old partying it up in Cabo, and Bridget will probably be finding some organic remedy to hold onto her youth.