My ankle hurts. My back hurts. I need to take a nap. I feel like such a wimp. I spent the morning and early afternoon at Sumner's school's tag sale. I netted like $50. What a waste. I am so exhausted. I feel old.
Most of my 40ish parent-friends think of me as SO young, but I am getting older. I like being 30. For most of my twenties I felt like a kid masquerading as an adult. I felt like a wayward adolesent with no one to rebel against. My secret teenage identity must have been well concealed, because schools hired me to teach kids, I got married, I bought big things like cars and houses, I had children, and made my best effort to look like I knew what I was doing. At 30 I finally feel like I am getting the hang of this adulthood thing. I am no longer in a big hurry. My mom always says that I was born two weeks early and that ever since then I've been a month ahead of her. It is true that I have always packed it in, but I can't do it anymore. Part of me thinks: what's the rush? I am only 30. I have my whole life in front of me.
I wonder what I will think (of my age) tomorrow.
Emily
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