growing older

Yesterday morning on MUNI, a doting mother sat next to me with her beautiful one-year old son sitting on her lap and securely harnessed to her shoulders and waste. He was quite vocal with his baby talk and attracted the admiration of everyone around them. I listened to her proudly share his little quirks with some of the MUNI patrons and found myself distorting my face to incite giggling each time he looked in my direction. At that moment, this thought occurred to me, [Spoiler Alert!] “How could Anakin Skywalker kill so many younglings? I just can't imagine taking a lightsaber to a child's head. Terrible, terrible.”

I am almost thirty; I am getting married in less than eight months. This is the type of thing I think about on a daily basis.

In meetings, when I am in deep thought, I wonder if my Batman t-shirt is washed for weekend wear. This morning, after a client call concluded early, I decided to spend my time researching ninja schools on Google (It looks like there are few realistic school options for me at this stage of my life).

Growing older is important.

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