Nothing makes you feel old like 2002

I got back on the treadmill horse today, and I chose Carrie Bradshaw to accompany me. Since J.R. bestowed the box set on me, I've inched my way up to the fourth season, and whilst I sweated it out on the incline, Carrie and friends celebrated her 35th birthday. And I thought, "Two years, that's me." And then I realized, no, actually, that's more like one year and a month or two. Fuck. And while I realize that's not old (every conversation I have with my mother reminds me that I'm young and need to take care of my knees), it is, in fact, another year gone by. And sometimes it feels like I've just been standing still.