It was my birthday. Now I’m just old.

I am not a bear, to clarify. Nor am I Jewish.

As of Friday, I am a quarter-century old. Like John Mayer, I am debating having a quarter-life crisis (assuming I live to 100). This will likely not include sexytimes with Jennifer Aniston, though.

For some reason I had always thought I was born around 3 or so in the afternoon. On Friday, my mom corrected me. It was actually 9:46 a.m., which seems entirely too early for me to be up. My mom claims she was laughing when I was born, thanks to the lovely epidural. This is a stark contrast to my older brother, where she 1) wanted to do it naturally and 2) had to be induced, which made the first thing a bad idea. They had to give her drugs to slow the labor because she was exhausted. Read any symbolism you want into that, ha.

I can’t mess with my brother too much, though. He was my protector when we were kids. My parents took me to the doctor as a toddler, worried by how little I spoke. The doctor looked at me and my brother together, and declared everything fine. “She can talk, she just doesn’t need to,” the doc said. “Her brother does it for her.”

To end the sweet stories, let’s talk about what a failure I am at 25. OK, not a total failure. I have a college degree and a job, and my own apartment. Plus a crapload of student loans. But maybe feeling like a failure is part of your 20s. I’ve heard the late 20s get better. I’ll let you know if that’s true. Or maybe my brother will.



Filed under Neurosis

2 responses to “It was my birthday. Now I’m just old.

  1. Meh. I’ll be 25 this year, too, and I feel like a failure all the time. I may be in grad school with an internship, but I make no money, am single, have few friends, and am completely and utterly financially dependent on my parents. I feel like most 25-year-olds are in similar situations. At least you’re living on your own.

    And happy birthday, doll 🙂

  2. bebehblog

    Happy (belated) birthday! I’m impressed with what you’ve done by 25, having never had a real career or been totally financially independent myself. I’m just a big old scaredy pants who can’t handle being on her own.

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