Over the past several years there have been subtle clues that I'm not a kid anymore. I can't get up without making some kind of noise anymore - my joints will crack, or I'll let out a whimper of pain. It's getting harder and harder to stay up past midnight. I find myself spending more than a few seconds looking at the weather forecast. I'm starting to really, really like Fleetwood Mac.
And last week, I used a Target gift card - something I could have used to buy any one of several hundred thousand fun and exciting items available in-store or online - to procure something that says quite plainly and in no uncertain terms, "I've given up on my youth."
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I now own a Crock Pot.
But wait. It gets worse.
I planned this purchase. I researched it. I checked prices and pot capacity. I considered different models. I bought my Crock Pot deliberately and with premeditation. And I didn't just buy a Crock Pot. I am excited about it. I have plans for it. They involve vegetables. Vegetables!
It's hard to believe that only a few short years ago I was still on my parents' insurance and being mistaken for a teenager. But those years are behind me now. I use twenty-dollar eye cream, I'm in bed before Letterman, and I own a Crock Pot.
I'm getting old.
But for the record, despite my lost youth, I would still love to adopt a husband. Please keep me in mind if you know of any single men who are considering marriage. If nothing else, a husband of mine will eat well. My Crock Pot came with recipes :)