33

And just like that, I was another year older.

I mean, it shouldn't have been a shock to the system. But I kind of got used to being 32. I got used to telling people, "I'm 32." Someone comes up to me on the street and asks, "How old are you?" My immediate response for the last 12 months has been to say, "I'm 32."

But I can't say that anymore. As of 7:48 this morning, I've been 33 years old. I can see myself having difficulty with the transition. Not because I think that turning 33 is momentous and difficult to my aging psyche. I see the difficulty being akin to forgetting to write the correct year on your checks for the first couple weeks of the year.

Personally, I feel fine with being 33. Actually, I feel better right now than I did a year ago. I'm in better shape than I've been in for a long time, and continuing to work on that aspect of life. I'm in a comfortable place career-wise, with very clear goals for my own next steps where all that is concerned. And, honestly, I still think of myself as being in my 20s. I guess that's part of the whole "as young as you feel" thing.

Maybe I don't physically feel like I'm in my 20s. At least, not all the time. I'll be honest, there are days I roll out of bed and things just start popping and cracking like crazy. Mentally, though, I definitely feel like I'm younger than I really am. I'm sure people would point out that I could just look in the mirror to make myself feel my actual age. And if that's a crack about the gray hair, ha ha. But you've gotta come at me with something better than that. I've had gray hair since I was 17.

I can honestly say it's been a good anniversary of my birth. It snowed, so I got the day off work, which was nice. The Other Single Guy came into town to buy me dinner, which was also nice. And in a couple days, I'll be celebrating in style with a bunch of friends. What's the celebration? Dinner at one of my favorite restaurants followed by roller skating and laser tag. Yeah, laser tag. Take that, ageist stereotypers!