when did i become crotchety?

i'm 33, and i think the state of crotchety has officially snuck up on me. all i want to do is whine about gas prices and complain that when i was a kid the month of june was considered a summer month. i feel uncomfortable with things that used to give me comfort. like change for example. i used to thrive on an ever evolving day, surprises around every corner. now i get upset if they switch morning news anchors on my favorite program. YOU SEE! right there- the use of the word"program" is only further evidence of my descent into crotchetiness. i feel grumpy about stupid things, i feel chilly more than i should, i drink tea exclusively, and i eat dinner at 5:30. i worry more about my dietary fiber than i ever thought was possible, and computery gadgets seem newfangled and overwhelming. i'm half of a stick of gum away from becoming my grandma! if they still made velamints i'd probably be keeping them in my ash tray by now. it's all very depressing. did i mention i'm only 33? i need to get ahold of myself. i'm only 33! i have plenty of irresponsible choices ahead of me. i am capable of participating in reckless behavior at any moment! i don't own a single piece of holiday themed attire, and i think that means there is hope for me.

but on the serious, what the fuck is up with the price of gas? i paid 3.99/ gal today and that was at costco. my little subaru costs 2x as much to fill as it used to. i am wigging out. mama needs to drive! in her station wagon, to the grocery store, to buy some fiber! this is no joke people. i cannot be a stay at home mom that actually STAYS HOME without the use of prescription drugs- i'm not going to make it. and if i can be frank, my kids are useless when it comes to biking. little legs, big helmets, wobbly training wheels. it all adds up to 2 hours to go 2 blocks and get some milk for $10 a gallon. i can forget about biking the mile to the local library for story time. and they have officially outgrown the kiddie bike trailer. at 64lbs and 38 lbs plus the weight of the trailer and factoring in the reason this place i live is called golden VALLEY i cannot do it anymore. we are stuck in a weird middle place. i'm too old to be a "young person", and too young to be an old person. my kids are too big to be hauled, but too small to make it on their own. and it all leaves me to wonder about this place after the marriage and kids have come, but before the convertible and mistress show up. the 30's are a weird sort of limbo place where nothing is the same, and there are no clear answers for how to get where i need to go.