50: The year I got old

I was thinking about how I have been in a funk these past several weeks, when I realized, no, it’s actually been several months now that I’ve been feeling this way.  I realized what is partly affecting kneemy mood and my decisions is this: I feel old.

  1. My skin looks old.
  2. All of my joints hurt all the time so I don’t want to exercise.
  3. If I do exercise, all my muscles hurt the next day.
  4. My bowel pattern is a constant concern.
  5. No matter what time I go to bed, or how late I sleep in the morning, I’m still tired all the time.
  6. I don’t want to do any work anymore.
  7. I don’t want to eat “healthy” anymore. I want cappuccino whoopie pies and DQ blizzards and apple crisps and Peanut M+M’s every frikkin’ day.
  8. I don’t even want to read anymore because my expensively, progressively, trifocally, Transitions vision sucks.

How’s that for pathetic? After I read my list it dawned on me: I’m depressed. SAD probably, since this is the longest, coldest, snowiest winter in the last, what, million years.

My daughter was reading this over my shoulder without my knowledge as I was writing it. A little while later she said,

She: “Mom, it’s not true.”

Me: “What’s not true?”

She: “That stuff you were writing; it’s not true.”

My daughter: yep, think I’ll keep her.

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6 thoughts on “50: The year I got old

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