Today was my eight-year anniversary at work. It passed mostly unnoticed because a) who really cares and b) LinkedIn has been ordering people to congratulate me for two weeks now, so everyone thought it had already happened. I did get some chocolates from my lovely work ladies though 🙂
Anyway, the point is, eight years is quite a long time. I’ve now been working there for longer than I’ve ever been anywhere else: primary school (six years), secondary school (seven years), university (four years). It also means that I left uni nearly ten years ago, which is frankly quite terrifying, because it feels like yesterday.
Now I know that I’m not exactly an old lady, but every now and again I do stop and wonder how I got to nearly 32 without noticing. There were quite a lot of things I thought I’d have done by now but haven’t, and equally quite a few things I have done that I wouldn’t have even thought of when I was younger. Which is what makes life fun, I think?
It also helps that nobody else thinks I’m as old as I am, either. Recently I went to Sheffield Park and as I was buying my ticket the lady asked in all seriousness if I was 26 or under. (She was obviously about to offer me some sort of discount, so I was tempted to say yes, but unfortunately I suffer from compulsive honesty.) I also quite regularly get asked for ID, which I tend to take as a compliment, even if it is a bit annoying.
But then occasionally something will happen that makes me feel ancient. Like the time I had to explain to a colleague that PJ & Duncan and Ant & Dec were one and the same, and then we worked out the reason he’d never heard of PJ & Duncan was because he was only one when Let’s Get Ready to Rhumble* was in the charts the first time. Or when we took on a work experience student who was born in 1999. And let’s not forget all the girls I was at school with getting married and having babies, whilst planning 20-year school reunions (20 years since we started, that is – I’m not that old).
I guess I have to accept that I’m not as young as I used to be. But that doesn’t mean I have to grow up, does it?
* Sorry – I couldn’t resist.