I literally squealed with glee when The Spice Girls announced their recent Reunion Tour! And apparently, I was the only one who even remotely cared at work.

Every single day at my place of gainful employment, I’m reminded how old I am. At the ripe old age of 30-something, I am officially older than 92% of my co-workers. I’m light years older than my boss. I’m older than half of the officers around here. And I’m old enough to be my 19-year old intern’s, uh, considerably elder brother.

Just last week I had a conversation with someone in Client Services and it went a little something like this:

Them: “Dude, who are you listening to?”

Me: “Fleetwood Mac.”

Them: “Oh-mah-gah … I love HIM!”

It was at that exact moment I died just a little bit inside. But I quickly decided if you can’t beat ’em, mock ’em. Take my intern, for instance. He’s seems to be a quick study. He’s eager to learn and not jaded by years of advertising abuse. And he’s quickly become the little brother I never wanted.

He had the nerve … the gall … the chutzpah to march in my office the other day and announce how exciting it was to be the new kid on the block. He then likened himself to a new puppy that everyone wants to play with while I, on the other hand, was an old worn out dog.

Had I not just invested $600 in Botox injections, the look on my face would have spoke volumes. So I did what any good 30-something boss would do, I threw my Emmy at him and told him to get out.

Get this! The median age within the walls of my ad agency is 26.25 years old … and that’s actually down from a year ago when it was a whopping 27.25. I have Jordache jeans older than that!

But despite the age gap – I do enjoy my co-workers immensely. They’re ready, willing and able … sort of like my intern.

Which reminds me … I need to tell him what I want … what I really, really want is a Tall Soy Iced Chai Tea Latte ASAP and for him to pick up my new Prada shoes at Nordstrom’s.