I graduated high school 20 years ago. 20 years. Just let the sink in for a minute. I'm old. That's what that means.
I mean, I can ignore and even alter the gray in my hair. I can slab anti-wrinkle cream on my face. I could put anti-wrinkle cream on my saggy body too, but the dog just licks it off. Kinda wasteful, if you ask me.
I can do all of these things to try and hide the fact that I'm old. However, I can't avoid the invitation to my 20 year high school reunion. It's right there on my facebook. Every freakin day.
They've been narrowing down weekends and making plans and all that nonsense. All the while, I've been commenting about how exciting it is and how much I'm looking forward to it...blah, blah, blah.
Inside, I have been all angsty about actually showing up at this thing. I'm feeling very pressured to lose about a hundred pounds, get a boob lift, get a more glamorous job and be way less broke. Also, I may need to wear something other than my work uniform or my pajamas to this event. Double angst.
Seriously. My current wardrobe consists of outfits to meet the demands of my current lifestyle. This consists of eating, sleeping, working and couching. It does not consist of socializing with people that I feel the insane need to impress even though I haven't seen them in 20 years and couldn't care less about what they actually think about me.
Did I mention that this event is to take place in the busiest bar/club in town on 4th of July weekend? Yeah. So, I'll be competing with the popular girls from high school along with all the Jersey Shore wannabe bitches at the club. Did I mention clubs aren't my thing?
Ugh. It's a good thing they serve the best damn Dirty Bananas at that bar. I just might be the drunk girl up in the cage (yeah, they have one) yelling 'We're the class of '92! Screw you!'. Did I mention that I tend to get mouthy with tourists?
This whole thing is going to get ugly. I might need a chaperone.