There was an article in the New York Times this weekend about how modern light bulbs are so energy efficient that we no longer have to turn the lights off when we leave a room.

I read this article with a sense of dread building in my belly, and I knew by the time I reached the last paragraph that this was it, this was the big day I’ve been dreading: I am officially An Old Person.

I am An Old Person because I can no longer change. The logic of this article is sound, the message reasonable, but the fact is I can no longer adapt to this evolving world and the New World Lightbulb Order. I can’t even pretend that I’m going to try to leave the lights on. I’m not going to try.

It’s disappointing. I had kind of hoped to be one of those flexible old people who is able to absorb new information in a meaningful way. I thought maybe I could be the one, that special unicorn among old people who can change my own behavior and update my moral code.

But I see now how engrained our mental habits become. If I have grandchildren, they will probably roll their eyes at me as I flip the light switch in the kitchen on my way out. They will mock me.

“Well, someday she’ll be dead and then we can just leave the lights on like civilized people,” they will whisper to each other.

And I won’t be able to hear them because my hearing will suck, and after I die they will just leave the lights on all the time and there will be nothing I can do about it. Ah, getting old is terrible!