Who would imagine the changes that occur as one ages? We all know that physiologically, things happen -- we get gray hair, the waist disappears, joints creak, etc., but I have experienced some startling changes that remind me I'm no spring chicken (NOTE: Using the term "spring chicken? -- definitely a sign of aging).
- I find partially used tissues around my living space. And by "living space," I mean the recliner I sit in each night to watch TV and in the pockets of my comfy robe that I wear religiously every evening. When I was a kid visiting my grandmothers, I was saddened and puzzled by the random tissues I saw in their wake. I don't know why this happens, and it doesn't matter because it's just me at home, but it's kinda disturbing when I do my vacuuming and find one tucked into the side of the chair cushion. How did I become so attached to tissues?
- I distinctly remember when I was young, thinking how strange it was that lunch ladies had to wear hair nets. I always thought it was humiliating. While I knew the idea was to keep random hairs out of our lunches, I found it puzzling that hair would fall out of their heads. I used to wonder if their supervisors really thought they would stand there an pull out strands of hair to plant in the food. That was back when I had rich, luxurious, shiny hair that required some effort or lots of brushing to shed. How I treasure that memory as I look at the hair in my hands after shampooing. I am fully prepared to see a bald spot emerge. My only consolation is that I don't work around food.
- Absentmindedness is a constant. I understand why old people have routines that they stick to -- it's because if they don't, they will leave the stove on, the water running and the doors unlocked. The other day, on my way to the airport, I had to grab my spare car key because I couldn't find my keys. Less than a block from my house I heard a rattling on top of my car, and yes, that's where I left them the day before. Today, I was so proud to get up and out of the house early, but when I got to work and looked in the back seat, I realized I forgot my purse and attache case. I had only remembered to bring my lunch (priorities, you know...old people like food).
It won't be long before I store hard candies in my purse. Sigh.
As for the hard candies, why wait? Yum!
ReplyDeleteI wait because at that point, I'll have one foot in the grave. Hard candies are really for the over-80 crowd, and even then, I'd have to have the type of handbag that hangs on the forearm and snaps closed with an audible "click". (shudder)
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