can the child in my heart rise above?

I realized today that it's the end of November.

That prolly explains why there was a line at the post office and christmas carols on the easy listening radio station.

(By the way, easy listening has suddenly become the cranberries, REM, U2, depeche mode, etc. And Classic Rock is now Pearl Jam, Lenny Kravitz, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc.)

I've been hoping that November would go slow, so I won't have to turn 37 that soon.

THIRTY-SEVEN.

That just sounds gross.

Y'all, I feel old.

Ok, I'm being a little melodramatic, but I really am kinda bummed.

The truth is, I don't even feel like an adult.

I've never booked a vacation.

I have no money in savings.

I text more than my 14 year old daughter.

I'm a freshman in college.

I still get zits.

I dance in my car (to the easy listening station.)

My dad says I'm a late bloomer just like him; I think he might be right.

So, my question is, does age matter?

I think a wrinkly neck and smile lines makes it seems like it matters, but it doesn't.

It only matters if you're old in your heart, and I'm not.

I'm so, so young.

And it's just getting better.

Except for the wrinkles, but that's what botox is for.