I'm Old

It's my birthday today and I feel old. Mind you, I'm not actually old but I feel geriatric. (Actually, I've had chronic leg/knee injuries since grade 9, so in that way I am old. It's not the age, it's the mileage). I would feel positively ancient except my supervisor at work just turned the big 5-0 a week and a half ago (and he looks it). As it is, that makes me feel a whole lot better about my measly age.

Age is a funny thing that way: for such an absolute number, it's all relative. Normally, I feel like a baby since almost all my coworkers and friends seem to be older than me. I guess that's what happens when you leave school and join the workforce.

But at school, things were very different. I remember the tail end of the second year of my masters. I was finishing up my thesis over the summer and planning on defending in August. Meanwhile, many of my friends from my own year had either defended in May or had vacated their cubicles, preferring to start new jobs and finish their grad work at home. Filling the void were brand new MSc candidates a clear two years younger than me: too young for me to have ever socialized with them during undergrad. They looked like highschool kids. And to them, I was just some old has-been taking up valuable office space and refusing to leave. A relic. A dinosaur. A fossil. And I felt it.

Anyway, that's enough moping. Afterall, if my ancient supervisor can celebrate, so can I. I've managed to visit most of my family and get some great Indian food (mmm, lamb dhansak), and the presents so far (cash and a bookshelf) are exactly what I need, so all is well.

So really all is good. Except that I learned (the hard way) that my trusty black dress shoes have sprung a leak. Now my left foot is very soggy and will remain as such for the rest of the afternoon. That kind of puts a damper on things.