Unchanged

My first Saturday night as a 22 year old panned out along pretty much the same lines as my last night as a 21 year old.
I wasn't expecting too much to change in the seven days between Saturday nights. I've been so busy the last few days with birthday things and birthday jokes and birthday binge drinking that it actually slipped my mind that I was 22 until about 30 seconds after I turned 22 when it all hit me and I cried out loud to the heavens about my ill fate. After that I sort of felt a bit better, so it was worth it. But only because it was really loud at Shenanigans and I doubt anyone heard me anyway.
However, I am different on my first Saturday night at 22 than I was during my first Saturday night at 21. Change is a gradual thing. However the one thing that does seem to remain constant after each of these first Saturday nights as an older person is the lingering hangover I feel after my annual, age-acceptance-assisting bender comes to a conclusion.