A few months ago, I had a first. For the first time, I was scared of the next age. Twenty-six. Are you kidding me? What the heck! Twenty-five was FINE. Didn't flinch one bit, in fact, I was ecstatic. But for some reason, the thought of twenty-six, being twenty-six, makes me panic. It's close(r) to thirty, it's on the wrong side of twenty-five, it's a multiple of thirteen and that just can't be good...
But in all seriousness, for the first time ever in my life, I'm intimidated by my next birthday. I'm sure it'll be fine, but it was just a weird feeling to feel what so many have felt about the past few birthdays. Holy crap. We're growing up!
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