"But Alexis," you say. "You're only as old as you feel." Yeah yeah yeah, I know the saying, Hippie Longstocking. Why don't you go and jam around on your Bong drums? The sad fact is that I feel old. Sure, I'm at the peak of my physical hotness. A cursory glance at photos from grandpa-pants high school phase and my "I'll cut and bleach my own damn hair, SOCIETY" college years will tell you as much. I'm talking about a bizarre pattern in my mental state that can only be described as senior-ly. Take a gander at these examples:
- Yells at inanimate objects that "aren't cooperating"
- Loves embroidered sweaters with cats unironically
- Uses stairs just fine, but still has phobia of falling and tearing a knee
- Uses the word "gander" in a blog post
- BAKES COOKIES
That is hella old people behavior, people! Next thing you know I'll be writing typewritten letters to the cast and crew of Matlock! And that show hasn't been on in 17 years. That show's absence from television is old enough to be a shitty, over-indulged teenager whose parents paid $175 an hour for SAT tutoring, but he still skips the exam to go to Coachella. THAT'S HOW OLD THAT SHOW ISSSSSS!