Today I met a dear friend for brunch at Penelope’s on Lexington. Yes, I am aware that I said that as if I brunch in New York all the time (sadly, I don’t). That said, it was so nice to walk to the train from our new home and wander around until I found the place. While I consider myself proudly independent, I tend to just blindly follow my husband when we go to the city. It was so fun to see her and catch up – the bloody mary, shared nutella french toast, and egg sandwiches didn’t hurt either. We have always been happily on the same page and our conversation kept coming back to how quickly time is passing. We will both be 28 in a matter of weeks and during our groan session about officially being in our “late 20’s”, it dawned on me – it’s been late 20’s for awhile now! Am I in such denial? Why? I am wholly content in my position in life so why am I acting as if turning 28 means I have to mourn the loss of my youth? Perhaps it’s because a shared bottle (or two) of wine with my fab SIL is still wearing me down two days later. Or because I spent the afternoon planting tomatoes and herbs in hopes that having a Summer garden will help inspire me to lose the late 20’s 20 that have been slowly creeping up on me (god forbid I cut something out of my diet instead of simply adding fresh veggies). Either way, atleast I’m in good company.