When did I get so old?
Recently, I was blessed to be starting a new job. Better benefits and a chance for promotion were excellent trade-offs for the job I left after six years. (That’s a long time!)
At the old job I had the distinction of not only being the youngest person in my department, I was the youngest person in the building! And a lot of people made sure I knew that (the inevitable “you’ll understand when you’re older” or calling me “young lady.”) so I actually felt quite young.
As I was introduced around my new office, a realization hit me: “Holy cow! I’m old!” In my business the newbies tend to be in their early 20’s… not 30ish folks so all of a sudden here I was learning from people only slightly older than my niece. Yikes!
Don’t get me wrong: These are a nice group of people. Friendly, welcoming. But they make me feel so ancient. I literally have more in common with my manager who is nearing 50 than I do with these guys. Wow! Especially because about a third of them (yes, a third) are planning to get married in the next year and a half. That’s what one does at 23, right?
The interesting thing about having been single all this time is that I feel like I’m in a state of suspended animation. While my friends with kids are aging, I’m still somewhere around 29 with my whole life ahead of me. But now I’ve had a dose of reality. And it’s weird.