Seriously. When did I get so old?

I rarely think about age, mine or anyone else's.  Sure Robin turned 50 this year and I teased her and my mom turned 70 and I teased her, but other than that, what difference does it really make?

If you're a Face Book friend of mine, you know I had a job interview at a local law firm today.  I think the interview went well, but he really had a poker face and I don't know for sure.  He was a character right out of a John Grisham novel.  Somber, slow speaking, Southern, "older" attorney.  I researched the firm before the interview to get a feel of who they are.  Established in the early 1900's - nice!   Seven attorneys, six of whom are older than me - good!  Three minutes from home - excellent!  (BTW ~ I will never mention the firm's name.  He told me that he was sure he didn't need to lecture me about the importance of confidentiality, but that if I get the job and happen to breach that, that I will be shot.  He also told me that my job description would be to "do whatever the hell it takes to get the job done".)

I think another adjective may be "curmudgeonly".

Came home and googled them again.  Wanted to see how old my potential future ex boss is.  Born in 1954.  He's only 11 years old than me.  That doesn't seem that old.  That makes him 57.  WHEN, I ask you, WHEN did it happen in my life that 57 isn't that old?  It seems like just yesterday 45 was old and I'm beyond that now.  Seems like I went from 26 to 46 overnight.    Where has the time gone?

I had another thought this morning about the whole interviewing process.  This is what going on a blind date must feel like.  I really am interested in this job, so I went all out.  Heels, skirt, blouse, hair, extra mascara.  Just like if I were going out on a date with someone with great potential.  I have another interview tomorrow with a job far less appealing.  I'm going because I feel like I need to.  It's some kind of bookkeeping job at a paper plant.  Glamorous, huh?  Hey, it's gotta be better than Harris Teeter.  And no boss will ever be as horrid as the owner of the pet place.  But because my heart already belongs to the cranky "old" man, I am not excited or nervous.  Black pants and some top that I'll decide on tomorrow, hair probably up.  I will do extra mascara because, well, I always do.

I feel like I've been in employment hell here in North Cackalacki and, just like I say about not having to date and being in a long term secure relationship, I am looking forward to the day when I can say, "I'm so glad I'm not "out there"".  

Would you look at the time?  Time for dinner!