Seenagers

I am a Seenager. I have everything that I wanted as a teenager, only 60 years later.

I don’t have to go to school or work.

I get an allowance every month.

I have my own pad.

I don’t have a curfew.

I have a driver’s license and my own car.

The people I hang around with are not scared of getting pregnant.

And I don’t have acne.

Life is great.

I didn’t make it to the gym today. That makes five years in a row.

I decided to stop calling the bathroom the “John” and renamed it the “Jim”.

I feel so much better saying I went to the Jim this morning.

Old age is coming at a really bad time.

When I was a child I thought “Nap Time” was a punishment.  Now, as a grownup, it feels like a small vacation.

The biggest lie I tell myself is.”I don’t need to write that down, I’ll remember it.”

I don’t have grey hair; I have “wisdom highlights.”

Last year I joined a support group for procrastinators. We haven’t met yet.

Why do I have to press one for English when you’re just going to transfer me to someone I can’t understand anyway?

Of course I talk to myself; sometimes I need expert advice.

At my age “Getting lucky” means walking into a room and remembering what I came in there for.
(Copied from email; author unknown)

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