In less than 24 hours , I will have to choose a different category on surveys. When choosing on the rolling button , I will go from 35-44 to 45-54. The survey puppet masters have decided what our age milestones are. In the modern culture, I can decline to answer my race or gender. Why can’t I opt out of age? I much prefer the surveys that simply have a are you over 18 button. Heck, I don’t even mind giving my date of birth. I am aware it is the same. I just assume everyone is like me and doesn’t want to be bothered to do the math. 

I do lie about my age if asked in person for a number, but I do it with a wink, wink, nod, nod. I am aware that no one believes that I am 27. That ship sailed a long time ago. My oldest son just turned 20. Even if I was a whore in high school or middle school and got him really early, that math doesn’t add up. I was a mother at 7. That would be Guiness Book of World Records stuff. Until I can get that stubborn man to claim to be a 6’2 ten year old, I doubt anyone would believe I am 27. They probably wouldn’t then. My Cruella Deville streak that I am not always on top of gives me away.  Nevertheless, I claim 27. I was never good at math. We live in a world of self identification. I identify as a 27 year old that is thin, has great boobs , a firm ass, and perfect skin. It is the mirror and my birth certificate that lie. 

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