Thus begins the most boring blog post ever, also known as:
I got together with some gals from college (in fact, I call them "the girls") this past weekend. We've been out for a few years now and had a stark realization: experiencing college and talking about college are two very different things.
College! Yay!
"College" according to us old folk.
We quickly realized we are old. One of us is married. Two own houses. Two of us have master's degrees. We've held multiple jobs between the five of us.
...and at least a dozen times this weekend we stopped ourselves in the middle of a conversation to say, "What are we talking about? When did we get old?"
I don't have a lot to say about most of these, so I won't. I only reiterate: Most boring post. Ever. (For you, the viewer. I, for one, am quite amused!)
Pretentious, boring, and old. That's us. We talked a LOT about each of our benefit packages, where are careers are headed, and about our hypothetical children. What's weird is that I wasn't bored: I was completely interested. I had a great time, in fact.
The fact that I was NOT bored only proves my point:
I'm old.
I would just say that I'm "growing up" rather than "old," but I've left out my most incriminating evidence:
I love hard candy. Especially Werther's Original. (My co-workers call them "old man mints.")
If that doesn't scream, "Hi! I'm 84!" I don't know what else does.
