I turned 45 this month.
If you’ve been reading me lately you already know this mid-life crisis I’m going through is driving me insane. 45. Forty. Five. Google 45 and then hit the “images” option. It’s a bunch of guns. Subliminally telling me what I need to do?
My nieces texted me with good wishes reminding me of how rockin cool I was. They’re so sweet. Probably doing what their moms, my sisters, were forcing them to do.
But I also made a decision to stop freaking out about my age. And my wrinkles. And my droopy cheeks. And my knobby knees. That’s it. Total acceptance of my pain in my bones when I wake up. And the fact that by 9 pm I’m struggling to stay awake. And the fact that when teenagers talk I just want to scream “STOP MUMBLING!!!!” then re-collect myself before adding “AND PULL UP YOUR PANTS!!!”.
Yes. I am going to be zen about this mid-life thing. So totally zen when I’m jumping over obstacles in my roller skates hoping that if I fall I won’t
come crashing down land on my already sore butt. Totally zen as I’m strapping myself into the regulators and vest and oxy tanks… Very zen when I’m praying the sail boat doesn’t tip over.
Zen. Welcome to my life as I patiently check off every item on my bucket list.
p.s. Do you realize some people don’t even know what that thing is up there?