Turning the Speed Limit

Whether I choose for it to happen or not, there's no running from it. Today I turn the speed limit. Fifty-five. How in hell does that happen? I bet there's more than one person out there scratching their head like me and trying to come up with the answer! The only thing I can deduce is I will now begin to fool myself on a daily basis. Fifty-five in my mind has just become the new thirty. LOL! Because I tell you if I don't keep this mantra running through my brain I may just have to bring out my cane and find some cute little boyscout to help me cross the street.

Is it possible? I just turned the speed limit. What the hell. I don't feel like what I used to think fifty-five would feel like. For those fossils out there close to my age, I ask you this question. Do you remember when you were in your teens and knew someone who was turning thirty – did you think wow, they are O-L-D? And then as thirty crept close, you readjusted your mindset and switched it up and then began to think about forty and what repercussions there would be to having near adult children? Well hell yeah! Instead of hiring a babysitter you now will be able to party with those same children and show them how youthful forty actually is (keep telling yourself that, baby) And yeah again, your own parents were O-L-D at forty but no way were you going to be like that because damn, the body still seems to be holding out.

Ah yes, here it comes. The day you turn the speed limit. This is what's going on with me. Some little bitch is running around inside my brain, pointing a finger at me and holding her crotch so she doesn't pee her pants from laughing. You have just turned the speed limit, she giggles behind her youthful smooth-skinned hand. Now that you're fifty-five, happy hour will be defined as a nap instead of doing body shots on a bar. That little aforementioned bitch finally gets her wits together and really starts on me. She says, and remember when you loved surprise birthday cakes and all the candles? Hmmph! Now you can use all that wax to wax your legs….and armpits….and the mustache you've recently acquired and all those goat hairs springing out on your chin! And hey, old lady, remember having sex and being able to bend? I'll just leave it at that, but remember, you can live without sex but you can't live without your cheater glasses! And don't worry about your friends keeping your secrets safe because they can't remember them either! And don't worry about watching the weather channel. Your knees will be a much more accurate way of telling you that weather is about to change. And oh yeah, one more thing. You can quit worrying about droopy breasts and a sagging ass. Why? Because they've already fallen. Yup. That knocking feeling on the back of your knees is really your ass.

Argggh, I say! Arggggh! But on the upside, I'm going to make this a good day. I'm going to spend it with my kids and family and friends. I'm actually NOT doing the cooking. I'm going to eat and not worry about calories and cholesterol. I'm going to look around and count my blessings that my kids and grandkids are healthy and that my parents are still here, productive, and not in a nursing home. And for the hell of it I just may do a body shot and set my cruise on fifty-six when I drive home!