OK, I *am* old
I still feel young most of the time, but something happened recently to bridge the gap a bit.
One of my favorite old-standby novels to reread when I want something familiar and comforting and fun is Wifey, by Judy Blume. I love all her "adult" novels (which description always sounds to me like they are porn...and they do all have some sexytime in them but are NOT porn) but sometimes Wifey is the easiest and most fun re-read for me.
When I first read it (as a teenager, maybe?) the protagonist, Sandy, seemed very old to me. She was a housewife with two kids and had been married for twelve years.
As I picked it up to re-read a month or so ago, I thought, "wait a minute...isn't Sandy...32? OMG. I'm 32. I'm Sandy's age!"
I'm old enough to theoretically have been married twelve years and have two kids old enough to be away at summer camp! Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.