It was my birthday last Thursday. It wasn't really a big deal. I was busy with coursework and whatnot, and felt like I couldn’t be bothered to celebrate. Glen got a babysitter on Friday and took me out to dinner, which was about as much of a party as I wanted.
Then today I got this in the mail:
Membership information for AARP? OK, I'm old, but I'm not that old. You have to be at least fifty to join AARP. (I looked it up.) Note the part where it says, "Our records show that you haven't yet registered for the benefits of AARP membership, even though you are fully eligible." I don't know why someone's database somewhere says that I just turned fifty, but that would explain why I've started getting ads for hearing aids and motorized wheelchairs in the mail.
*UPDATE* Friday, April 13th.
I was in one of the fourth floor lobbies today in the Humanities building, where the English MA students hang out between classes. While chatting with Aaron and Nicole, I mentioned that I had gotten registration material from AARP right after my birthday. Aaron looked at me doubtfully and said, "You're not ...?" and then let the question sort of trail off, as if he suddenly wondered whether I could possibly be 50 years old.