“Oh, Christine. You’re not old.”
I don’t feel old but there’s nothing more aging than chatting with a group of twenty-somethings. Smart, creative, funny and fun twenty-somethings — much like I was 20 years ago. (Or so I like to tell myself as I mentally revisit my personal history.)
My colleagues humoured me as I regaled them with tales of the person — yes, the one (1) person — in charge of the electronic mail (that’s what we called it!) at my second job. There was no email at my first job. I mean, I think it existed then at CERN or something — not that I knew that then. I was too busy looking at the glowing orange screen of my word processor trying to squeeze out press releases. (We had those then, too.)
You know, they were right. I didn’t feel old chatting away about whatever it was we were talking about — despite the fact that I was wearing a cardigan — I felt just fine. And that’s just one of the things I love about my workplace; I’m surrounded by vibrant and interesting young people. Sure, I try to tune out when they tell me how old their parents are (the same age as many of my friends) and I am sure they must sometimes think I am a bit out of touch — but overall it’s cool.
Oh wait, do we still say “cool’? I better ask tomorrow.