I can't remember jack. One of the things about ageing, besides saggy boobs and WTF hairs, is you begin to surprise yourself with how that heavy sonofabitch sitting on your shoulders stops functioning at optimum levels.
Yesterday as I walked through the ER waiting room I stopped in my tracks at the magazine rack - sitting there prominently among the donated periodicals was a magazine called "CRAP". Well, I THOUGHT it said "Crap". Obviously my dyslexic brain was at it again. In fact, the magazine was titled "CARP". Carp. "The magazine for Canada's Association for the 50 Plus." Um, someone needs to inform them that DOESN'T spell CARP. I think it should be CRAP. As in "Holy, crap! I'm 50!!"
Occasionally, I google "cabins in the woods" and daydream about places I think I can runaway. Then, something breaks through my fantasy state and I realize I would need an income, which leads me to google, "jobs in mountain towns". Realizing I wouldn't be able to afford makeup or hair color, I search: "Bland, gray haired ladies working at park services". Well, heck, with that sort of income and the cost of living by then, there goes the health club membership. Okay, so I google, "Crooked old ladies in the woods." Then I realize I wouldn't be rockin' a solid health insurance plan, which I would need if I were killing game for food. How about "Into the Geriatric Wild" ... Aren't you glad I'm not your financial planner?
The older I get, the more past there is to try to save...while my capacity for storage—both physical and emotional capacity—diminishes, in seemingly equal measure. Holding on is a losing strategy. Not that there's any winning strategy, of course.
I am absolutely too young to have a high school student. Do you hear me? is this thing on?? Sigh. I cannot be old. I wear cool shoes! I listen to hip music. I wear semi-fashionable clothes...I am not old. Repeat it with me.
The estrogen death march continues as I wander around my house looking for something. What the fuck am I looking for?! I open the fridge. I walk back to my room. I go back to the fridge. Do I want cookies? Alcohol? Rice pudding? Popcorn? Maybe that was it. Maybe I came in here to get popcorn. No. I’m not even hungry. So what is it then? Am I tired? Am I lonely? Am I bored? What time is it? Shouldn't I be doing something right now? Am I late for something? Do I need to be somewhere? What day is it? Where am I?
I am unusually tired and hot flashy lately and keep having to remind myself that I am most certainly old enough to be experiencing The Perimenopause. I went to a Barry Manilow concert and liked it; one would think that would tip me off.
When I was in my 20's I just knew I wouldn't make it to 50. And here I am 3 years away. A full grown beautiful woman who has finally found unconditional love from a man (granted he is only four and that's going to totally change, but...hey!).
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