This week I turn 27 years old. 27. There is something weird about that number in my head. It makes me feel like now I have to be an adult. I can't fudge on my adultness now. I'm not in my mid-twenties anymore. I'm in my late 20s. I'm close to 30. Which means doing grown up things. I often still feel like I am a kid or still a college kid running around pretending to be a teacher. Maybe to feel more grown up I should stop wearing holiday themed socks and being easily entertained by wooden toys. And probably no more chocolate milk. And I should probably change my phone ring tone from the WonderPets theme song. And maybe I should think about having kids... well, maybe just a dog to be sure I can handle being responsible for another living thing. And arrange dinner parties.
Or perhaps not... maybe at 28.
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