you know you’re getting old when…

you are at a party and can’t stop looking at your watch to see if it’s time to go.  

you drink one beer and then switch to water because, well, you’re skin will thank you for it in the long run

you sit on your ass and watch everyone else get wasted all while remembering when…

you leave exactly at midnight, no not because some spell will be broken and you’ll return to wearing rags and your mode of transportation will be nothing more then a pumpkin, but because you have to get up in the morning with the kids.

over half the people at the party are younger than you

you spend most your time at said party wrinkling your face at the outfits the younger girls are wearing only to be left to wonder why anyone would follow the latest fashion trend that you apparently didn’t even know was a trend until now

you spend at least an hour thinking up ways to play match maker between your younger and absolutely adorable, and lets not forget, very intelligent, cousin and that fine specimen of a guy you spotted on the dance floor. (hey, Michele, call me! I’ve found you a match!) 

you watch from a distance at the “kids” at the bar taking shots and can only think to yourself ‘why in the hell would anybody want to do something like that.’

you can’t name the title of any single song that was played at the party, nor can you name any of the artists or groups that were responsible for these songs. And this doesn’t bother you one bit.

you found the music to be too loud and worry that you may have permanent hearing loss as a result.

you get home from the party only to be SO happy to be able to get to sleep before the clock strikes 1 AM.

Okay, so either these are true tale signs that I’m getting older or I’m just really really boring.