July 30, 2008

How about a tequila float?

I've heard it said that getting old isn't for wimps. It just sneaks up on you. You start noticing little things...then all those little things become a big thing. I'm hardly a senior citizen and I'm frequently told to act my age. I'm not sure what that means, but I don't think I want to do it. I am active and perhaps just a shade crazy, I'll admit it...it keeps life interesting. But it seems over the last few years I'm slowing down a bit. I'm not staying up all night...but maybe that's because I don't have good enough of a reason to stay up all night. Hey, this is my story and I'm sticking to it.

My hair color and texture has changed...so has my skin. I have more lotions, potions and notions than I know what to do with...and have a suspicion that none of them, outside of possibly my hair color, are doing much more than separating my money from my wallet.

My hormones are playing hide and seek. My emotions have gone berserk. My metabolism is AWOL, meaning I can gain weight on bread and water. Which leaves me a hot, angry, hungry woman. If you're laughing now, I'll guess you're female and over 40. If you're crying, I'm sorry...go eat ice cream, you'll feel better.

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