So, since the moment I turned 21, something has happened to me pretty instantly. I've sort of forgotten that I can drink--I end up staring at a bottle of wine like "what is this bitter grownup stuff?", and thus begins the search to find alcohol that doesn't taste like alcohol. But what I haven't forgotten is that my body has gone from having the energy levels of a ten year old on candy to an eighty year old woman.
You want a for instance, you ask? Oh, I have plenty.
For nearly a year I've teased my boyfriend for being tired all the time. It'll be midnight, and he's all "hey, look, it's tomorrow already; I think we should go to bed." And my twenty year old self thought the day was young, that one doesn't even think about bedtime until 3AM, that sleep is for the weak.
But now. Just the other night I was at a friend's house for a sleepover (which apparently grownups call crashing at someone's house? What is this nonsense?), and I got so sleepy, that I had to go to bed two hours before the rest of my friends even thought about sleep. I was well on my way to dream land when my friend crawled into bed--the only upside to this, however, is that I've matured into a very peaceful sleeper and not once did I try to cuddle my friend, or kick her, or steal the blanket.
So not only am I finding it perfectly acceptable to go to bed at 10:00, AND take naps throughout the day, but during my waking hours, I'm getting increasingly horrified by the vernacular of youth. My friend informed me that "alc" is apparently a thing in text speak, as in short for the DASTARDLY LONG WORD "ALCOHOL." I'm sorry, but kids these days don't have the time to type "alcohol"???? Alc? Alc???? That sounds like a cutesey little nickname for that kid you always picked on in grade school. Are kids these days so busy with their eyebrow waxing, hair-straightening routines that they don't have time to write out a 3 syllable word? If you have an iPhone, by the time you type out "alc," your phone will probably get the gist of it and autocorrect the rest for you.
The worst part, however, is that my face is deciding to turn into a silver unicorn, sprouting grey hairs every two seconds. It would be far too normal for my body to give me a grey hair in the mix of all my blonde, though; instead, I get the gift of grey eyebrows. Yes. Every time I pluck my eyebrows, I see a giant strand of silver in between my tweezers, going "heyyy, look at me! Your death is inevitable, la la la!"
And then I stand in front of the mirror and cry for two hours.
So, 21 years old and it's already downhill from here. The things you learn from drinking.
Namaste.
