Old.

Well, my fridge is covered with save-the-date magnets and my facebook feed is filled with people’s babies’ pictures. Another friend just announced her impending child’s birth–she’ll probably look fabulous the whole way through. It’s official.

I’m the old, barren spinster at the rotten age of 27.

As a single, unwed girl with no children I have a ton of free time on my hands when I’m not working at my job that pays me to work 40 hours a week but actually has me work closer to 50 and when I ask for comp time off no one plays dumb like my boss, who’s all “What?? You worked??” Yeah. Baby pictures abound in the office as well as people regale us with stories of cute-things-their-children-did. Oddly enough, these children and I both share an appreciation for Disney and rainbow unicorns so we have more in common than I do with the adults…

Running has helped fill up a lot of that extra time. As I was hobbling down K Street because my quads were killing me after my ill fated attempt at squats and my stubborn insistence on run/hobbling my scheduled 3 mile run, I couldn’t even muster up the energy to try and look like a graceful gazelle easily running at my slow 6 minute mile (uphill no less) pace when a very good looking gentleman runner was running past me in the opposite direction.  Instead, I stuck with my clunky hobble, hunched over, and thinking “Oh f$%k it, he’s probably got a girlfriend or a wife or both already anyway. They all do. If not, his glasses indicate serial killer.”

Glass half full: At least I got my stretch marks from eating some really good food…?

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