A while back I talked to you about the fact that this was my 50th year of life. I went on and on about how I was going to make the best of this year and do the things I wanted most. I spoke of the vigor I had, not only for life but also in energy and such.
I am wondering today where all that vigor has gone... I know I am getting older and I guess in some ways I have not or maybe do not want to actually face some facts.
I can no longer run the 50 yard dash as fast as I used to.
I bruise now when they take my blood at the doctors;
plus it is harder to find the vein to even take it in the first place.
I can no longer stay out to all hours of the night, drink myself into a stupor and get up and go to work the next day. Weight is becoming my enemy. When I young I had the pleasure of being able to eat anything and everything I wanted with little recourse. I am well aware of where it is now.... My sizes tell me quite loudly. And losing it is not as easy as it once was.
Where I once tolerated my big melons when I was young even though they were cumbersome and often in the way, I have grown to dislike them intensely and want to trade them in for a smaller pair.
One would think that I had quite the negative attitude with all these statements. I will admit that there are times when I would not mind simply going to sleep and waking up when this was all over. Despite what some may think I am not always little sally sunshine. I will also admit that I do not like getting old or at least some of the things that it brings with it. But such is life and really it doesn't matter what I like or don't like.... it is what it is...
Yet I will admit that aging has also given me some awakenings that I was too blind to see when I was younger.
I don't need to run the 50 yard dash in record time. I never really was a track star anyway.
Although I bruise when I give blood, I do not have to do it often as I rarely go to the doctor unless it is for my allergies or to refill a prescription that has expired.
I never was one for staying out all night and getting snockered. A leisurely glass of wine on my back porch is really all I need. Unless of course it is a Muse concert. Then I seem to find the energy somewhere down deep and I could stay up dancing all night long.
I do not have to worry about my weight as much as when I was young. I caught the man I have wanted all these years and he loves me just like I am. And anyway if I finally do go through with saying farewell to the sisters that have been with me since Jr. High (way too early for big boobs, especially back then) the number that comes up on the scale will definately decrease. I know this why? Because a couple years back when I had the biopsy on my right breast, it was just a little piece and I could tell the difference. When I turned 40 I remember talking to a woman about all the changes that seemed to be occurring to me after my 40th birthday. She only chuckled and said...
You think 40 is bad... wait til you turn 50.
Que Sera... Sera...
