Every morning on my drive in to work I pass by a house that has two garden gnomes, both of them placed tantalizingly close the road. Those folks are either really trusting or really stupid because every morning I quietly plot the best method for stealth garden gnome removal and then I remember that I'm an adult and taking other people's stuff is called "stealing." Stupid, all the things I didn't do when I was young enough to not go to jail for them.
I think my age is catching up with me but I wouldn't actually know because I forgot how old I was the other night. Not, like, for a second but for a while. I was too embarrassed by my own self to do the math, so instead I had the following inner-monologue chat:
"Wait, how old am I? 35 or 36?"
"Do the math."
"No! I refuse to admit that I don't know this off the top of my head. I'm definitely 36."
"Are you sure?"
"Wait, no, duh I'm 35...or 36."
"Sheesh, I'm so dumb! I'm absolutely 36."
And then I went to sleep.
PS. I'm 35.