No to the creaky knees, no to the aching joints. What the hell is my problem, I think. I am not that old! I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like when I’m really old – do I even want to make it that far if I’m already in daily pain? Wtf?
I’m in denial. Aging is a slow progression. You don’t wake up one day ‘old’. How the fuck would that be? No, you get to hurt slowly, like a mild torture device that can be full throttle any time.
The problems begin to add up. Oh, your eyes aren’t seeing so well anymore, and you ignore it, it’s temporary. Soon, though, you begrudgingly get the dollar reading glasses, because why are you going to pay very much for this bullshit condition? – and you know you’ll lose them eventually…
Oh, you can still drop it low, my friend. The twenty year olds have nothing on you – until the day that dropping it low causes a twinge that you have a hard time getting back up from, so you sort of slide into what you hope is a cool-looking dance move, and then, oh, you’re just too hot to keep dancing. Hot flashes have descended (ascended?), and it’s only 11:30, still another hour & a half before you can go home with a modicum of youthful dignity.
The girls want to do another shot? Ha, ha. OK, sure. Let’s drink to partying forever – hell, yeah! – oops – mine spilled, ha, ha. Oh, well, that’s fine. I had a shot while y’all were dancin’, and I’m feelin’ fine! Wooo, hooo! Because, if I had had another shot, my whole day would have been ruined, and I know I’m not going to sleep much anyway, because – idk – thanks Obama?
I feel like the chaperone more and more, and I’ve probably been looked at like one for far longer than I realized. This isn’t about them, anyway. They have their own shit to contend with – their young shit, which I am honestly grateful to not be in the midst of anymore – but here I am with a new set of sucky life issues to navigate.
I don’t want to be old or get old, but the only way to prevent it is to die, and I’m not ready for that yet either.
Whatever ‘god’ worked this design out is an idiot. Hopefully he was fired and a woman was put on the job so the men can start evolving with all the hell we’ve had to endure, oh, sorry, continue to endure.
I do all the things that I can afford to not age. If it weren’t a psychosis, there wouldn’t be a thousand products on the market promising to keep or make us younger. I really don’t think they made all those anti-aging formulas just for me. Those companies know I’m broke.
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current