help. i haven’t fallen

23 Aug

and yet i still can’t get up.

are you middle aged? what IS that anyway? hmmmmm well if you figure that i’ll live to a ripe old age of 94, then i’m middled aged. yeah, go ahead and do the math. what do i care?! so i’m fine with some aspects of aging. i’m not overly worried about the wrinkles. when i accumulate a dozen or so new ones, i just plump them up with another 10 pounds. and unlike my sister kris, i’m not read to give up the dimestore glasses. they have such cute ones. i’m no imelda marcos when it comes to shoes, but i need a special tree to house all my funky granny glasses. and i deal with the unregulated temperature gauge. i dress in layers so i can peel or repeel( is that the opposite of peel?). and the heck with diamonds, FANS are a woman’s best friend. i do miss my mind but i figure i’ll eventually reach a point where i don’t REALIZE all the things i’m forgetting. another thing i’ve noticed is that i really do enjoy the simple moments in life much more than i did when i was in my twenties. memories are great, but there is nothing like a fresh experience. for instance the other night when i headed to bed, i turned on the fan. it’s on a pedestal so it’s face height for me. as i’m debating on whether to just put it on high, or turn it to a souped up turbo speed (scott can be a regular tim taylor when he puts his mind to it), i remember how as a child i used to sit in front of a small fan (that weighed as much as a boat anchor and had rubber blades with nothing protecting me from sticking my finger or tongue into the fan…. other than common sense and yeah, of course i tried it…both the fingers and the tongue…at least i did it when the fan was slowing down….can you say “ouch”) and talk into it. just for the fun of hearing my voice get all funny. i’d pretend i was a super spy and was disguising my voice for security purposes. and so naturally i had to talk into the fan that night. it wasn’t the same. but it was still fun. hmmmm maybe memories ARE better.

i digress. i was telling you all how it’s not that bad to get old. so yeah, it’s not THAT bad. but (bet you saw that coming a mile away) there are a few things that really get my goat. not being able to sleep. i really really want to. i need to. and yet… i am. not much i can do about it unless i want to dope up. the other thing that really wrankles me is my skin. in general and in specific. this rosacia is out of control. just when i think i’ve got it whipped, bang… nose is redder than an old man’s snout after a 2 week drinking binge. and then just when i think i might be able to sleep, it starts. usually near my ankles. a little creepy crawly feeling. like i’ve been covered in sweet honey and staked to an ant hill. i try to will myself not to scratch but yeah, that works for all of .02 seconds. pretty soon my legs are covered in blazing red welts from scraping at myself. how annoying. seriously people.

so tonight i’m scraped and scratched almost to the point of bleeding. i decide to hop in the tub for a soaker and put in some baby oil. ahhh blessed relief. i soak for about 90 minutes. long enough that i needed to drain out some of the water and run new hot stuff in there. i figure i just “hot conditioned” my skin like VO5 does to your hair. and then the fun begins. remember the movies where people are trying to catch a greased pig? now imagine me trying to stand up to get out of the tub. the tub is now slippery. and so am i. yeah.

well obviously i made it out so i could relate all this to you. so no, i don’t need a little button to hang around my neck just yet.


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