…right across my face… until it doesn’t anymore… not sure which is more frightening for me. Death or growing old. Neither are good options, not sure there’s a better/worse to choose from.
And yeah, with that, is it obvious that I’m sort of feeling my age these days kids? What with my 50th birthday bearing down on me like an overloaded Septic Pumper, driving far too fast, on a curvy mountain road, at midnight in the pouring rain, with my own mortality doing the driving, as it sends a text and checks Facebook.
There, that’s your visual of the day. You’re welcome. I’m a giver like that.
But anyway, yeah, feeling like I might be a bit old. Or older than usual anyway. And coming from the person who doesn’t ever admit to the “getting old” thing, those are big words I’ve shared. And in a large quantity. I know… scary shiz, ain’t it? But the big struggle for me is that I’m truly not sure I know how to act this age… since I’ve never been 50 before… I’m watching others do it, and they appear to be doing it much more graciously than I ever will, mainly because I’m usually one pratfall away from being drafted into the circus. Nothing about me is ever graceful for long. So I’m feeling my way through this one, trying on one mental attitude after another, sorting out how I’m going to do this “woman of a certain age” thing with my usual style and aplomb. But truthfully it scares the crap out of me to be here… because I know people around me who are dying, right now, and I’m not ready for death to become a constant companion. I’m not ready to have to bury friends. I’m not ready to help people I love die a “good” death.
And WTF is a good death anyway? It’s death, you’re dead, there’s nothing at all good about that. So let’s just drop that redorkulous name for kicking it out of our vernacular, m’kay? Thanks.
But yeah, I’m dealing with that now. Losing more people I love. I have become by age and survival a senior member of society. And I’m fighting it with every thing I have and am. Sitting here with my headset blasting Muse and Arctic Monkeys, sipping on Vitamin Water, and anxiously checking on delivery of my latest wrinkle cream/skin savior.
Yes, I’m ridiculous. Aren’t you glad you know me? You can at least feel superior to someone today… me
And speaking of that
looming sense of doom birthday, the other thing causing me stress about it is figuring out the right way to celebrate this “milestone” event. Since, apparently having a funeral where we bury my youth in effigy isn’t something that’s “done”.
I know, right? Who knew there were rules on appropriate celebrations? Shocking, I tell you. Simply shocking. But it is what it is.
Anyway, so I’m struggling with trying to determine how best to mark this event… other than with anesthesia and plastic surgery of course, and I’m simply overwhelmed. The beach looks tempting, but we can go there any time and it’s not exactly a big event. Then there’s the idea of a milestone trip of some sort, but to where? We’d like to do an adventure, but again, to where. Of course I also love the idea of going somewhere and being pampered and spoiled with lots of good food and drinks but I’m not sure how much Bob will enjoy that. So I’m dithering, this and that’ing the subject to death, while I get older by the second… oy!
So, yeah, expect to hear lots more about this, and yes, I doubt I’ll make a decision any time soon. Ideas are welcomed… share away, and save some sympathy for old people… if you’re lucky you’ll be one some day.
If you’re lucky.