I am back to getting the decade wrong! (Only, at this point in history, that also implies indicating the wrong century.) I’ve done this multiple times in the past month–okay, months, even before the calendar year flipped.

I remember the days when it was a matter of writing the previous year’s year-date (mistaking only the final digit), until one got in the habit of writing the post-New Year year. Kid’s stuff!

Does anyone else do this? Ever? (It happens when I’m recalling things, too, and need to signify the year. Strictly unintentional–although in former days, I might have verbally invoked such misremembered dating for comical effect, or to see if someone was listening to me or just affecting a listening posture*.

The thing is, if this is simply a by-product of aging, then I’m especially pleased about actually attaining an age when it seems within reason to attribute it to aging. It probably has more to do with my brain and stuff, and the fact that Prince’s, “We’re gonna party like it’s 1999,” continues to resonate with every passing New Year. The song was cemented, relationally, as a future event of immense proportions, worthy of unprecedented anticipation. Does it continue to hold that quality for you? (if it ever did)

* I cannot blame people for this, but I really would prefer them to just let me know they aren’t in the mood for gibberish, than for them to feign interest or attentiveness. (This post was prompted by me realizing that my mom was doing a head nod thing recently, without really listening to me. Talk about a wake-up call, for me at least.) As I’ve mentioned before, I cannot always control verbal tangents, and often find myself surprised by how long/far a simple starting thought will meander. I do think there are times I come up with hilarious, spontaneous insights and funnies with stream-of consciousness speaking, but I prefer no audience to one held against its will!