Growing old

I've done some growing up in the past few days. Not in the way that I'm proud of, but more in the way that I feel I'm starting to show my age. Take Friday night for example: I was in bed by 11 (at the latest) and around 2 AM there were drunk people in the hall--not a common occurrence in an apartment that doesn't allow undergrads. I pulled myself out of bed, walked out in the hall (in my pajamas with my hair askew) and asked, "Hey guys, can you keep it down out here?" There were two girls collapsed on the stairs and some talk about a key--the group moved outside of my window about 5 minutes later. I lumbered back to bed and wondered if they would warn their friends to "watch out for the crotchety old lady in 101."
And this damn puzzle. Rick and I started this VEISHEA weekend (nearly a month ago) and he quickly abandoned it. I'm not sure if you can appreciate the intricacies of the puzzle--it's a photo mosaic. Of the world. What were we thinking? So I tinkered away at it, day by day, eventually sorting the blue pieces by shape and using the photo to place every single piece. The fact that I did the puzzle or that it took so long is not the depressing part--it's the fact that I feel I need to document this accomplishment. I used to laugh at the framed puzzles in people's homes--a tribute to lost leisure time when a poster of the same picture would have been better. But there was a scoffable sense of pride in a framed puzzle. Time was not wasted--it was preserved for all to see. I used to wonder why anyone would put the puzzle behind glass.

I took two photos of this masterpiece. And it's been completed on the table for two days now, nowhere nearing returning to the box. And I called my mom to tell her of my accomplishment.

Before you know it, I'll be knitting.