a failed attempt at a post, as it were

As some of you kind readers may know (especially the ones who just wished me a happy birthday), I have officially joined the ranks of the middle-aged.:/ I feel... very strange. Not sure how much I identify with the phrase "mature woman", which would be my correct description at this point. What does "mature" really mean? Does it mean you have it all figured out - or rather, if you're still clueless, better keep it to yourself, because it's not socially acceptable to be clueless at your age?

I seem, to myself at least, so young and inexperienced in some ways - while, at the same time, so old and disillusioned in others. It's very confusing. The frightened little girl is still very much in charge of my emotions; while the cynical, aging woman takes over the outward appearance. What a weird combination.

And now I have totally lost the thread of those weighty philosophical speculations, because I decided to "celebrate" (or perhaps mourn) by having a glass of wine, and the very mildly alcoholic contents of said glass are making me all sleepy and incapable of complicated thought processes. There's a sofa bed a few feet away from where I am sitting, and it looks extremely inviting right now. And yeah, I know it's not even 11 p.m. on a Saturday night. Pathetic.:/

Apparently, this is what happens when you get to be my age. *snort*