"My bones hurt."

"They do not. Bones can't feel pain."

I looked at my fingers. "Must be my joints then. Arthritis."

"You do not have arthritis," Lisa argued.

"I think I heard my back crack this morning. I'll probably have back pains for the rest of my life."

"Backs crack all the time. It's natural."

"Not like this. It sounded like someone slamming a sledgehammer into a tree."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Then wouldn't that be more of a thud sound, instead of a crack?"

I paused. "Ohmigosh, you're absolutely right! See, my mind is going! I must be going senile!"

"Mike, you just turned thirty. Not a hundred. Thirty. You're still a young man."

"You just think so. From the outside, everything looks okay. But inside, just think—all of these organs have been pumping away for thirty whole years. Never a day's rest. My iPod can't even survive two years without breaking down."

"You're comparing your internal organs to your iPod?" Lisa gave me the kind of look someone gives a puppy who just collapsed out of dizziness because he couldn't catch his own tail.

"What about this: what if I were to walk outside, get hit by a bus, fall on a dirty soup spoon, and, you know, get AIDS?"

"Hey, I know that reference. You got that from Calvin & Hobbes, right?"

"You're not listening to me!" I shook my fists at the Heavens. "I'm OLD!"

Lisa sighed. She patted my shoulder solemnly. "Want me to get your walker for you? I'll make sure to pick up a box of Depends later today too."

I shook my head. "It's over. It's all over."

We sat silent for a moment. Lisa looked out the window and watched a cloud drift by. Then she cleared her throat and continued. "It's true. There's nothing more to life for now."

I looked up at her. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be cheering me up?"

"What? Why? What's the use?" She threw up her hands. "You're freaking thirty now! You're an old man! There's no use hiding it anymore."

"Hey, you're only as old as you think you are, right? So if I think I'm younger, I'll BE younger."

"You'd only be fooling yourself, Mike. Remember when you were a kid and twenty seemed old? Well, thirty is even older."

I shook my head. "Nope, I can beat this. Age is relative. It's all a social construct created in my mind. On some other planet, I might only be twelve."

"Why fight the aging process? Your bones are starting to give up on you. Soon, your back will give out, you won't be able to control when you pee, and your fingers will be ridden with arthritis."

I wiggled my fingers. "Hells no, they're still fine. I'll just exercise more. I'll be back in peak condition in no time."

"Thirty is OLD Mike."

"It's just a state of mind."

"And the state of your mind is thirty years old. And so's your body."

I stood up. "I'm not going to take this sitting down. I'm going to go out and do some running, dammit. Talking to you is no help at all." I stormed out of the room.

Lisa sat back in her chair and looked out the window again. More clouds drifted by.

Slowly, a smile crept across her face. She picked up her iPod, put on her headphones, and put on some Britney Spears.

. . .

How old do you think you are?