Body & Mind

My suspicions about the bed sheets have been confirmed. J woke up with a sore neck this morning. Aha! And you all thought I was making that up. But it's true: Satin sheets are bad for the bod. And I think they will be sentenced to the "emergency laundry backup" drawer tonight.

We had some old friends from Seattle visiting last night and enjoyed reminiscing about college days. Somewhere between complaining about my sore neck, rehashing the stupid things we did in college, and a conversation about vacuums, it hit us: we're getting old.

Seriously, if you had told us four years ago that at this point we would be living in Texas, expecting a baby, and sitting around comparing the suction power of assorted vacuums, we would have imagined a very chilly day in hell.

And yet here we are.

It's amazing how time flies and what a drastic mental change happens during the early twenties. Fantasies about traveling the world as a vagrant artist and living on Ramen just for the intrinsic value of rebelling against the black hole of Corporate America are replaced with the desire to find a stable job and have the means to support a larger family. Where 'Planning for the Future' used to mean bringing an extra pair of underwear on that impromptu out-of-state camping trip, now it's contemplating a savings plan for our baby's college expenses.

And forget about those 2AM trips to Denny's for hot wings. Or spur of the moment treks across the city to hear a live band. I can just feel the grey seeping into my hair. Sigh.

Although, being old and stable does have its advantages. Like cool TVs that were only the stuff dreams were made of at age 20.

PLASMA, baby. Plasma.