Walk Home Together

I’m still not exactly sure what happened but as best I can tell, I woke up one day in my 40s a different person. 

I went from almost 20/20 vision to needing 1.75 readers. 

My right hip, always a little janky, went full Karen and constantly wants to speak to the manager. It’s me. I’m the manager. 

I’ve had some gray hair for a while but I’ve been blissfully unbothered because my hairdresser is a magician. Only now the grays are popping out of my ponytail faster than you can say Paul Mitchell. 

Other than that…and maybe the crows’ feet and the fact that I no longer know any of the songs on the radio, I still felt like I’m in my 20s.

Until this past 6 months. 

Night sweats. Vertigo. Sluggish metabolism. Effing GRAY EYEBROW HAIRS.

The only thing I’m not experiencing are mood swings but I have Pfizer Pharmaceuticals to thank for that. 

So at 48 I guess this will go on for a while? Five or ten years? 

I’m cool with aging. Really. I’m just ready for everything to settle down so I can fully embrace the next phase: 

A slightly leathery and slightly eccentric peace-and-love yogi who reads too much, holds full-on conversations with her dog, wears country music T-shirts with Birkenstocks and rides a purple bicycle everywhere. 

Oh wait. 

Night sweats. Vertigo. Sluggish metabolism. Effing GRAY EYEBROW HAIRS.