Excuse Me While I Disappear: Tales of Midlife Mayhem

by Laurie Notaro

I order kids’ meals at restaurants, and the server just nods without question. Old lady. Little appetite, if she even lives through the meal.

Because wherever you are on the journey of aging, tomorrow is going to be both worse and better.

Acid reflux tries to eat you alive.

Chin hairs are elusive, sneaky organisms. They are simply put there so that you cannot think about anything else but the victory yank when you finally have them by the root and out of your body. I personally believe that chin hairs are most likely responsible for several plane crashes, oil spills, detonated bombs, and many, many unplanned babies.

“Why are you going anywhere? You’re too old to walk around. Watch it on TV. You don’t have to pack nothing.”—

after a certain age, you can pee anytime.

“How do you like those seat warmers?” “Holy shit, I thought I just pissed my pants!” I screamed out of relief. “But it felt so good!”

The first time you grunt, gasp, or moan while attempting to get up off anything is the Bat-Signal that you are middle-aged.

“I wish someone had told me that my 34Bs would become 36 Longs.”—

In the end, I have finally come to this conclusion: at my age, if it hurts on both sides equally, it’s completely normal.

“No matter how old and achy I am, I can still haul ass outta bed when the dog starts making vomit noises.”—

This statement may be the truest ever spoken!

If my car made the sounds that my body does, I’d grudgingly drive it to the nearest dealership and would even consider trading it in for a Fiat.

People act poorly because other people have let them act poorly, and they have been able to get away with it for a lifetime.

leave it to an invisible woman to yell so loud when it counts that no force can drown her out.

Anything that requires “extra leak protection” is not your friend.

Weight clings to you like a baby chimp clutching its mother.