Sometimes I forget how old I am until I tell an older person my age and see their response. I’m 24, with the soul of an 85 year old. Years of growing up in a hair salon that caters to senior citizen women has done its damage. I’ve always resented people’s response to my telling them I’m a Gemini because I always received the standard response: oooohhh you must have two personalities then, you schizophrenic bipolar woman, you! Maybe I went a little over bored, but this is how I took it. But as time passed, I realized, I really must have two personalities (maybe multiple, who knows).
The first personality, who I’d like to name Mandy (my childhood nickname) is compatible with children, people my age and maybe even the immature 40 year old. My silly side, where I have no shame in humiliating myself for a good laugh is usually appreciated by the children at heart.
And my second personality, whose name is June, in memory of a favorite deceased client of my mother’s, can have a mature conversation with anyone 40 years and above. Weather? I got you. Those darn young whipper snappers who just don’t have any manners? Damn them to hell. Jeopardy? Set to record every night at my house.
You get the point. And the more I think about it, what an awesome skill to have. No?