Dream Interpretation or Why My Subconscious Hates Me

My 27th birthday is coming up in a few weeks. Besides official entry into my late 20s, this isn't really a monumental birthday. I haven't given it much thought other than where do I want to go to dinner, what present is Rob getting me, can I convince him to see a super girly movie, and how many Mojitos is too many. I was even looking forward to becoming a year older because I'm the youngest one in my group at work and getting older might give me a little accounting street cred (if there even is such a thing). Everything was going swimmingly with my ideas about aging until last night. Damn last night.

I had a dream that I was having a birthday party. At this party everyone kept wishing me a happy 35th birthday. I was telling people over and over that I was only 27, but no one would believe me. After the well wishing for a happy 35th year, all of my friends started telling me how old I looked and that I've really let myself go. W. T. F.

I have nothing against 35. It's a fine age. Heidi Klum is 35(and I've already professed my adoration of her). Kate Beckinsale is 35. Molli Sims is 35. Tyra Banks will be 35 in a few months. Portia de Rossi is 35. Even Monica Lewinsky is 35. These are all beautiful, smart, successful women. I should be pleased to lump myself in with them. But I'm not.

I think the part I'm having issues with is the "you look so old" and "you've really let yourself go" part of my dream. Were those comments really necessary? Do I subconsciously think that about myself? Needless to say I woke up critiquing and questioning every part of my appearance. These critiques and questions include but are not limited to:

• Wow, my roots are really showing. My highlights need a touch-up
• OMG, my eyebrows are in serious need of some maintenance
• Should I be using an anti-aging/wrinkle cream? Is just moisturizing okay when you're almost 27?
• I should drink more water
• I should drink less coffee
• I really need to start using the gym membership I pay for each month

After picking up the pieces of my shattered self-esteem, I preceded to get ready. I stood there with my flat iron meticulously straightening every strand of my hair, foregoing my standard wavy ponytail. I put on my most youthful looking business casual outfit. Common sense did kick in for a second, and I took off my super cute, super high, and super uncomfortable black heels and opted for more sensible work footwear (I guess I am getting old).

Since I took all this extra time to get ready, when I finally got to the Park and Ride my favorite parking spot was taken. Plus, I missed my favorite bus with my favorite driver. I got to work 20 minutes later than I normally do, but I don't look a day over 25 gosh darn it, and it was worth every minute!!