Cooing Slowly

Aren’t they sweet? I watch affectionately as they try to figure out how to use headphones and send sms’ with their expensive mobiles. I’m talking of course of our technological challenged peers. The average age group of my office is around mid to late forties, I am part of what is affectionately referred to as generation Y (although it depends on who you’re talking to).

We ‘youngeuns’ meet once a month for a good talk and lunch, but unfortunately we have come to emulate our old peers. The conversation begins promisingly of talks of this and that but eventually turns to work. It’s hard, considering we all use to be so full of life, ideas, prospects, in short ‘youth’. Yet I am under the sneaking suspicion that the old residents of my office are sucking the youth out of me, just like in Stephen King’s “Tommyknockers”, slowly my teeth will begin to fall out, skin pasty and translucent in my corporate rags. Fairly soon I’ll be have all sorts of nasty sex.

We are oldies in the making, dress in the latest styles if you can afford it, keep up to date with the most funky and exciting trends if you’re that cool, but eventually we all become our parents. That isn’t to say that we be exactly the same, no no, but take a snapshot of your parents now, this is a good guestimate of what you will be at 50. I’m already calling my friends “darl”, a bad sign.