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Bye Bye Short Shorts, Hello Varicose Veins

I’m getting old. No more bullshit. Old age has arrived at my doorstep, and I think she is here to stay. I have just been living my life the way I have always been living it and suddenly…BAM. The horrifying realization that I am no longer the young, sweet thing I once was. I have morphed into an old and weathered mom, wife, and co-worker. Over the last few months, it seems like this aging process went from 0 to 60. Here are the things that have happened to me just in the last two weeks... I broke a tooth and had to get a crown, threw out my back while putting a plate into the dishwasher, I repeatedly told my kids to turn down the music/movie/video game because the volume was literally hurting my ears, had to go to the eye doctor because my up-close vision is not what it once was, and I am quite certain I had a mild concussion from being hit in the head and nose by the back of my toddler’s head…what’s next? A broken hip? A bunion? A walker? Damn. It’s clear I’m past my prime.

The physical ailments are mounting every day. I have acne again, wrinkles, hot flashes, slowing metabolism causing weight gain, grey hair, dry skin, blotchy skin, new chin and lip hair. And can someone please explain to me the new, saggy, excess skin that is now above my knees and under my belly button? Where did that come from? Go away flab, you are not welcome here. It’s a bitch, but I’m still alive. I mean… it is better than the alternative. I remember that my mom once said to me when I was in my 20’s that this is the best that my body is ever going to look. I didn’t believe her at the time. Now I completely understand. The transformation is brutal and I dream of the days I looked like I did the first time I thought I was fat.

Millennials. Those young whippersnappers make me feel old as shit. When I first entered the workforce, I was the new, young, fresh one. Suddenly, I find myself being the old bag of the office. The one with the experience, kid advice, life lessons, and the funny stories from my many years in the workforce. All these young kids are explaining things to me because they just assume I’m too old to grasp them on my own…and some of the time they are right! And the slang. Please stop the nonsense… “Totes Adorbs”. I don’t get it. Why can’t we just say totally adorable? Is it that much easier to say “totes adorbs”? It just sounds stupid. My rapidly aging brain just doesn’t understand this new, crazy talk.

I’m now the one in mom jeans that don’t show my ass crack, shirts that cover the parts they are designed to cover, and shoes with good arch support. I am the one judging these young kids who are wearing inappropriate skirts, shorts, and listening to their inappropriate music too loud. I can no longer get up off the couch or floor without making grunting sounds or other sound effects and I’m lucky if I don’t pull a muscle. And, once I do get up, I can’t remember why because of my forgetful mind. Ma’am…that’s what I get called now. No more miss or young lady. I’m an old bag, Ma’am. When did this happen? Clearly I am way too young to be called Ma’am, right? I am in my mind. People say I’m grouchy in my old age…I’m not (at least not any more than normal). I just dislike traffic, people, waiting, loud sounds, barking dogs, driving too fast, dressing skanky when you are 11, and other things I can’t remember because of my old age.

This getting older thing…physically, it’s not so great. But, it is necessary. Otherwise you’d be dead. Life, it’s one giant parade to death. So, here we come. Jowls, grey hair, crow’s feet, and Depends…welcome.

Today is the oldest you've ever been, and the youngest you'll ever be again

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