Aging Anxiety

It just occurred to me—I am 24 mother-f'in years old. OMG. I am a bonified grown-up. No more of this, "Wooo! I'm 21 and can finally go by 'Tina' instead of 'Monique' in front of the bouncer!" No more, "Wooo! I'm 22, and college freshmen look at me as an experienced older woman!" or "Wooo! I'm 23, and I get to work in an office and boss around interns!" Now it's "Woo. My friends are starting to get married and buy houses. I'm starting to get pissed 'cause I haven't gotten promoted in two years or...ever. Two a.m. is a late night for me, and I've run out of anti-wrinkle eye cream. I'm expected to know how to cook and...bake things." Hell, the one thing I have going for me is that my melons are small. Therefore, they will always be perky.