To admit or not to admit…to yourself. Well, I am like a cat fighting going down the trunk of a tree, and leaving claw streaks as I resist gravity and are on my way down. Down baby, down.
There are a lot of things we (baby boomers) are facing as gravity takes a hold of all our parts and sometimes our brain cells, our friendly neurons. Ay! Dios Mio. In English, OMG.
But, there are always three sides to a story. Mine, yours, and then the real thruth. There are the fringe benefits of having had many, many happy birthdays! Discounts, people on long lines at the supermarket try to be nice to you, or not, and other things that sometimes make you feel good, and others that sometimes deflate your ego. Who was that said “You’re Only Old Once.” Well, I feel the many happy birthdays on a constant basis. Not complaining, of course, but the rituals sometimes take the whole month’s agenda. Let’s not go the doctors’ visits route. Stay away from those people.
I felt great the first time I received my (cough, cough)15% discount. Did the celebrating dancing, but had to be careful not to break or disjoint any moving parts.
This thing of many many happy birthdays is part of evolving, but the carrousel moves a bit faster once you hit the 60th mark. Is it my imagination?
On a sunnier (sun decided to shine just now) note, I am glad I am able to tell my story and have fun while doing so. Until next post,
Your Happy Contessa