It used to be when I would tell someone how old I was, they would act all surprised. They would tell me how I looked about 8 years younger, but not this year. I let it slip and all people have said is “mmmhmmm” confirming my worst fears. Ok maybe not my worst fears, but age related yes. Maybe others see what I see. My lines and my poor skin.
I thought I would be someone who was proud of every year they earned and wear it with pride. But vanity has gotten the best of me and I admit I have briefly considered botox. I won’t do it. I can’t justify the cost and I have a thing against putting extract of Clostridium botulinum into my skin, muscle, whatever.
It’s not just my appearance that I have noticed falling apart. When I was 29 I put on some weight. My metabolism slowed down. It seems this past year is another one of those kinds of years. Then again I haven’t been treating myself all that well for half of it. Maybe it was the “treating” that got me to this point.
The thing is I don’t feel old, and I am positive in 10 years I will loath this post, because I wasn’t enjoying the youth that I have. I wasn’t celebrating my health and I waisted my time and abilities whining “blah, blah, blah, old, blah, blah, blah, sore joints, blah, blah, BLAH!”
I don’t know if I have anything more to say about this. I don’t want to be a downer, but today I am still thirty six and even though I forgot my wallet, then went home, then forgot a diaper, then went home, then forgot when my appointment was for tomorrow, and realized I must have some other appointment on some other day at 9:00 am
that I forgot about (please universe call and remind), I still don’t look or feel like her.
I was going to insert a picture of a 37 year old person from the internet that looked less than awesome, but all I could find was hot celebs. That didn’t make me feel better. SO FORGET IT.
Maybe I will feel better tomorrow.