8.25.2004

Aging

So I am being presented with continual signs that I am in fact Old. Or getting Old.
Most of these changes seem to be physical. Like how Ben has been able to (gleefully) pull out gray hairs from my head that I was completely oblivious to. I was temporarily relieved when he hadn't found one in a while, but he just said that he had stopped because it seemed to freak me out. Right. Then I found my first cluster of spiderveins swirling and scattering bluely right by my knee. A small patch, but evidence of my deterioration nonetheless. Perhaps the most troubling sign is the regularity of my bowels. I remember when I gave little thought to them--they expelled themselves freely and whimsically, with not a pattern to be seen. (This was a positive, I assure you). Now, I have a Pattern. Every morning, approxiomately 10 minutes after starting on my coffee, I start to feel the familiar rumblings. I'm reminded of my dad, who makes his regular trip to the bathroom just after dinner, newspaper or tv guide in hand, to spend a good 20 minutes letting his colon do it's dirty business. Right now I am pretty speedy at my task, but I am sure it is only a matter of time before I need Assistance in the form of a trusted friend--a book, today's paper, etc...
And what's more, my actions and activities have taken on a particularly Old Person tone to them. This whole drinking coffee thing--that's Old. I have my schedule--I get my medium coffee (cream and one sugar) from the Dunkin Donuts down the street from work. Maybe I'll toss in a sesame bagel (toasted with plain cream cheese). A few years ago I wouldn't have imagined myself being a coffee slave. Now I find myself crashing in the afternoon without it, and engaging in the cliched coffee work banter. ("Oh, don't talk to me, I haven't had my coffee!" or "Looks like someone hasn't had their coffee yet!" HA!) Add to that that the most exciting event in my life has been joining a local knitting group (We even have a clever knitting related club name!), and I have pretty much set myself up for middle-agedness. So anyone that wants to talk about back pain and different types of insurance plans--Look me up.

1 comment:

Kelley said...

Friend, you speak my mind (insert Quakerly hand-waving)
I derive great pleasure from "putzing" around the house, I compare unit prices on everything in the grocery store (sure, we won't eat two pounds of mustard, but it is ten cents cheaper an ounce), I wash and reuse plastic baggies, and I've even been contemplating renters' insurance. . .