What’s my age again?

Something else you need to know about me: I look younger than my age. A LOT younger. As in, I am 30 years old and  I regularly get asked what high school I go to.

This is both a blessing and a curse. Why a curse? Second thing you need to know about me: I am an attorney.  Who wants an attorney that looks like they are in high school? No one, that’s who. Not only do I look like a high schooler, but I have a really high voice, like I haven’t gone through puberty yet.  The type of law I do, I don’t generally meet my clients in person before I work with them. And a lot of them retain me by email. And I can totally tell when I call them for the first time that they are totally like “the hell? Did I retain the Doogie Howser of law?”

To make things worse in my career, I have a really happy last name. Like, so happy a name that I didn’t even know it was a real last name until I met my husband and he introduced himself and I definitely thought he was messing with me. While we were dating, but before we got serious, I remember gleefully telling him that I couldn’t ever think about a future with him that included marriage because I couldn’t be a lawyer with a last name like that.

Third thing you need to know about me: my life is proof that God has a sense of humor. Whenever I tempt fate with wild declarations, fate takes it as a personal challenge to kick me in the (metaphorical) balls and hit me in the face with a pie. Five years after I told my boyfriend that I’d never be able to marry him, there we were, walking down the aisle.

Ok… where was I? Oh yes. Looking my age.  Not only do I not look 30, but I am fairly certain that there is absolutely no way I am actually 30. Would a 30 year old be completely unable to keep their house clean for longer than 2 hours? Or keep all their clean laundry in a huge pile in the middle of their guest room bed instead of folding it and putting itaway like an adult? No. So I currently have a conspiracy theory that my parents have colluded to make up my birth date.  I don’t know why yet, but I’m undaunted in the face of facts.

And don’t call me crazy. I read My Sweet Audrina. It happens, people!

P.S. More proof that I am totally not as old as my parents are trying to claim… I passed the Teenage Audio Test!

P.P.S. So, I wrote this post in advance and scheduled it to publish later to make sure you guys got regular updates in case my soul sucking job wore me out too much to write (I’m always thinking of you guys) and in the meantime I had to go to the ABC store (for those of you who have reasonable liquor laws in your state, this is a state run liquor store and is the only way to buy liquor here).  It happens every time, the cashier always squints at me like “Seriously, YOU’RE trying to buy liquor?” and I hand him my ID and the cashier looks at it, then looks at me, then looks at it, and looks at me again.  I always feel the urge to say something like “I swear it’s a real ID” which would only raise their suspicions more so instead I just stand there looking guilty which also only serves raise their suspicions more. So far I haven’t actually been turned away, but I’m always scared they are going to try to get in the way of me and my sweet, sweet liquor.

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