I turned 32 today. Somehow for the past three months or so, I was able to convince myself that I was going to be 31, so accepting the number 32 has been quite the process. In the past two weeks, three significant things have occurred that indicate I am getting old.

1.) I now hate the mall. I have always been obsessed with shopping for home goods, clothes, shoes, toilet paper, well, you get the picture. If it involved spending money, I was all about it. I was one of those gals that could spend the day strolling through a packed mall, drooling over the latest must-have hand bags and boots. Then I’d obsess about the items until I either owned it, or found something better. I’m fairly certain this trait is 50% of the reason my first marriage ended in divorce. However, last weekend, something happened. I was wandering in the mall looking for new shoes when I had an epiphany. I no longer enjoy the mall. It’s not fun; it’s filled with angst ridden teenagers and over priced jeans. I much prefer sitting at home and trolling Gap and Nordstrom for the comfort of my own home wearing my uniform. By uniform I mean my fave pair of worn out sweats, a white v-neck shirt and UGG boots. I paint a pretty picture, huh?

2.) I now have multiple gray hairs. Prior to last week, I had one gray hair that I could easily locate and pluck on a bi-weekly basis. It became a ritual, almost a jacked up game of hide and seek. Then out of nowhere, I spotted 2 more. Only now, they are located in a not-so-easy to pluck location. I fought with those wiry, white hairs for days and seriously could not pluck them. They stood on end, almost waving and taunting me from the crown of my head. After multiple failed attempts to wrangle those bad boys, I was on the verge of bald spot and needed to call in back up. Yes, I begged Brian to pluck them, but instead he used tweezers to curl them…ya know, kind of like curling ribbon on a present. Finally, he successfully removed them and several normal hairs thus making the impending bald spot even larger. One day later, I spotted two more. If I find another…I may go blond, or cry.

3.) I can no longer wear heels. After a long winter of rocking one of my four pairs of UGG boots, I realized that I can no longer wear heels. I pranced around in a new pair of wedges for three hours as hour four fell upon me, I was wincing in pain with every step and was completely certain my feet were bleeding…they weren’t. The following day, I had to soak my feet. Yes, soak my feet. I think I have to retrain them to be squished in a narrow place with little room to breath or I may be that girl wearing UGGS in the summer. Rest assured they will not be combined with a mini skirt.

Happy Birthday to me…can you tell I am really excited about this birthday? Yes, that was sarcasm.

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