Showing my Age

It started quietly enough. I couldn't tell one boy-band from another. MTV started to suck. Then I had co-workers who had never heard the term "latchkey kid." Let's face it. I'm old.

Saturday, the final nail dropped. Wait... that's the wrong metaphor. The shoe dropped. whatever.

I found a gray hair. (Or is it a grey hair? What's the difference, anyway?)

In the past, I've thought I've found gray hairs, but after plucking them out and holding them up to the light, I've realized that they were just blonder than others.

This one was gray. It was coarse, much thicker than my blond hair, and about an inch and a half long, which means it probably sprouted right around the time I lost my job. And if it truly is stress-induced, I'm guessing it probably has friends that I haven't found yet.

My frustration must have been palpable. I got carded twice this weekend. And to that clueless bouncer and way-too-nice waitress, Thank You. At this point, I'll take what I can get.