You're a mean one, Google Web ad generator

Dave was working and I was waiting for laundry to get done (which, by the way, is still in the basement ... I'm waiting for it to bring itself up here, fold itself and promptly put itself away). I was Googling something, and that dear old search engine, boy, does it ever know how to recommend sites where you lose entire hours of your life.

Such as the Real Age Test.

I'm young; 20-something, about to have a birthday, a few years away from that "30" thing. So I should be at the peak of healthy living. Huh.

This Web site has you answer all these questions about your health, your genetic predispositions, your weight, your activity levels, your diet, etc.

About two hours after you take this ridiculous test, you log in your email and it tells you how old you really are. My mom was in high school when she had me, by this site's estimate.

Dave would say this was Google's way of showing me I need to cut the macaroni, or at least jog to the store to buy it next time. I am four years older than my biological clock. Or would it be that my biological clock is four years older than I am? Whatever.

Either way, it's a big deal to me. Four years isn't a big deal when you're talking about the difference between 90 and 94. Heck, 60 or 64. It's not. But when you've only lived a short number of years, almost divisible by four, this is bad news.

And I just took this test when I swore off resolutions. Daaaang.