Where's My Metamucil!

I've been feeling old. We did a class exercise a few days ago, and discussed the pro's and con's of each decade from people in their 20's to people in their 50's. What was interesting to me was that the people who were already out of their twenties were talking about how in your twenties you party all the time, have no responsibilities, can eat whatever you want without gaining weight, don't have any health problems, and generally have wonderful, care-free lives. I also joined a "twenty-something" bloggers group, and most of the blogs I've been reading are by people who seem to have these carefree lives described by my classmates. Frankly, I think I belong in the 30 or 40-something group. Instead of drinking to excess with my fabulous friends and dry humping some guy on a dance floor in 5 inch painless stilleto heels, I spent the weekend doing the following:
1. Painting the exterior of the house
2. Scrubbing and then sealing the grout
3. Sleeping and whining about how tired I was after doing numbers 1 and 2.

Granted, I had my fair share of drunken debauchery in college. Nights spent passed out on a friends floor, waking up covered in obscene scribblings written by my more sober friends. Mornings spent in hungover misery with my roommates. The ninja-like theft of a shopping cart from the UA campus. But really, those years were pretty tame in comparison to most other people. I made it all four years without going to a single frat party, I never got arrested, I never even got in trouble with the RA's. I was only single for a semester in between my high school sweetheart and my future husband, and I didn't have a single one night stand. I never even got a speeding ticket.

At the age of 26 I am a married home owner with two dogs. I definitely can't eat whatever I want, and in fact even when I subsist only on salads and water I still can't lose weight. I get tired by 11pm, even on weekends. I have a real job that takes an emotional toll on my personal life. I prefer wine to shots. The guy who brings me home from the bar is my husband, and usually instead of having drunken monkey sex afterwards, I fall asleep and drool on him. I groan when I get up after sitting too long, just like my parents.

I wonder if I've missed out on an important period of irresponsibility and delicious recklessness, or if I am really just happier being old and boring. Maybe my wild and crazy days will happen when my future kids are off to college, and I'll start bar hopping. But shouldn't those days happen when you're young and can still wear a mini-skirt without being laughed at? Who am I kidding, I already have cellulite.

Sometimes, I think longingly about high school and kick myself for having two long term boyfriends and being a responsible student. I should have been out playing the field, because I just found my senior pictures and dude, I was hot. I gotta say. I weighed like 100 pounds and could eat whatever I wanted. I should have been ditching class and making out with hot seniors behind the bleachers. While eating my weight in nachos. Why? Because I could.