It seems I spend every minute lately either breaking out into a sweat so profuse that it proceeds to drip off of my face and head or I'm looking for a sweater because my teeth are chattering with cold. Either way, I can't get the lid off of the advil bottle and I forget the difference between oregano and rosemary which made for some weird spaghetti sauce the other night.
I had no idea that I was going to completely break down at 45. Really. I thought old age started at....erm...idk....70's or 80's depending. I thought the gray hair, the wrinkles, the expanding waist line was just surface stuff to complain about, not an actual signal that your body was breaking down.
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| This stinks, Pookie! |
I had no idea that I was going to completely break down at 45. Really. I thought old age started at....erm...idk....70's or 80's depending. I thought the gray hair, the wrinkles, the expanding waist line was just surface stuff to complain about, not an actual signal that your body was breaking down.
I thought I would adopt a child at 45 but since I can't stay awake past 8:30 pm I'm really re-thinking that idea. I thought I would have fabulous mid-life romances. I didn't realize that I would have to choose between Advil and wine for fear of liver failure. I never imagined that my giant feet would hurt so much that high heels would be relegated to the back of my closet except for the occasional hug. (Yes, I hug my shoes. So?)
Dudes....I'm full of life except that I can't seem to enjoy it much due to the chronic pain and exhaustion. Which is why I bought lotto tickets for the 500 million dollar jackpot tomorrow.
Imagine the tales I could tell you armed with the proper pain killers and a private jet.
Goodnight, my lambs.
Your ever lovin',
Miss Pierce