BECAUSE I SAID SO...
39 IS THE NEW 25 WRITTEN BY JULIE BURTON / PHOTO BY JAMI BOWMAN
I feel like I’m 25 years old. I said feel like, not look like. And I don’t mean physically feel like either. I’m pushing 40 this year. My legs are tingly because I’ve been sitting on the couch too long writing this. My face is starting to show how much I’ve laughed over the years.
I feel mentally 25. I bought a car. It’s not a new car, but it’s a new-to-me car. I know “Now you have a car payment” isn’t exactly something to get excited about. But I am excited about it. It’s my car. I went from cars gifted to me by my parents right into 15 years of (the always humiliating) “college degree,
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SIMPLYkc MAGAZINE
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JULY 2021
homemaker, income zero” on credit reports. I found a car I liked. I saved up money to put down. I found out that buying a car titled in Missouri and moving it to Kansas involves a 7 a.m. inspection at the Kansas Highway Patrol’s office while wearing pajamas and sporting rat’s nest hair (because that is way
too early to have a car inspected). I found car insurance and patted myself on the back for being a good driver. I made an appointment at the DMV and paid dirty old Uncle Sam. (I called him much worse, but my editor would red mark those words right out of this column.)
