Oh Shit-did I really just turn 63?

Jul 24, 2015 by

Oh Shit-did I really just turn 63?

I know I’m going to wake up.  I’m not saying it’s a nightmare, it’s more like an out of body experience.  A 63 year old body experience.  No way!  I remember my Mother used to say the older you get, the faster time flies by.  That’s

GOLLY, THAT WAS ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO!

GOLLY, THAT WAS ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO!

when I thought forty was old.  Not only do I see my Mother’s hands when I look down at the end of my arms, but I’ve starting to see her face when I look in the mirror.  Where has the time gone?  The strange thing is, based on my genetics, I’ve got about thirty years left in the tank!  What the heck am I gonna do the next thirty years?  Of course, everybody’s usual answer is “Travel!”  Maybe this is a sign of getting old, but I’m really starting to think packing, arranging a sitter for the dog, stopping mail delivery, driving to the airport, parking, schlepping luggage, waiting to board, being cramped like a sardine (I know first class would eliminate the last one, like that’s gonna happen), having the plane delayed on the tarmac, finally getting there, renting a car, arriving at the hotel where your reservations have gotten lost, going out to eat at ridiculous prices……..(need I go on?) is not all that fun and relaxing.  Another response is take up a hobby.  Well, okay…..probably anything physically challenging is not gonna happen since it takes me about four different yoga positions to get up off the floor when I get down to look under the bed for Mitch’s lovey.  I was cleaning out the pantry and had gotten to the bottom shelves and made the mistake of sitting cross-legged on the floor.  Because of the tight space, I could not reach to push myself, with my hands, off the floor.  I could not pull on the shelves because they’re the kind that are movable, so all the canned beets and evaporated milk would plummet and cause serious damage to my sixty three year old body.  Thank goodness, Dennis was there to help, otherwise I would still be there by the Reynolds heavy duty wrap and the Mexicane Colas…………..Yes, the signs are knocking at the door.  I remember my Mother’s hearing got to be what we called, “selective”.  I’ve noticed my tolerance has

MORE THAN 10 YEARS AGO

MORE THAN 10 YEARS AGO

gotten to be……uhhh, “selective”.  I especially don’t enjoy bad servers at restaurants.  I want them to know the fine line between being friendly and yapping, instead of placing my cosmo order.  One should not have to guess which is a priority………..I remember, and really appreciate the Kathy Bates movie where she rams a car and says “older and better insurance”………Be afraid, be very afraid, you people at HEB.  It’s hot as hell outside, I’m 63 years old and I want that parking spot that’s by the door………………

 

That's me celebrating my 4th birthday

That’s me celebrating my 4th birthday

 

 

 

 

 

 

A 63 YEAR OLD WISH

A 63 YEAR OLD WISH

 

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