Why didn't anyone warn me that growing old was going to be so tough?
40s should come with a warning! Sharp decline ahead!
First the kid leaves home to look for greener pastures .And the house falls silent. Deal with that, its heavy!
Now it’s just the two of us, me and my spouse and long evenings of discovering unique ways to eat each other’s brains for dessert!
The most dreadful thing of the 40s-the reflection on the mirror!
It’s a horror show most mornings. I look scary, bags under eyes, over- exhausted look, and hair oily and stuck to the scalp or dry and frizzy! There is either no color on my face or I look terribly tanned. Then there is the excess baggage pouring out from everywhere, the arms, the chin, the butts, the middles (why are they called love handles? Beats me, you can go figure, I am too disgusted by the stretch marks on it, eeewww!)
Then there are days when I can just about tolerate my looks. Layering on the cream, compact, rouge and all the works, I slowly start to transform into an extra-terrestrial. (These are my feeble attempts at what my daughter one day forcibly made me buy, it’s called make-up.) Make up for the loss of youth is what they actually mean, mean guys. You need make-up now ma, never step out of the house without it she said!
I will need a lot more then make up, more like amours of steel, that I tell you, but who is listening!
The thing I am most upset about is I can’t even speak the way I always used to. Society expects me to be polite, refined and sensible and if not then it isn't classy or you are a cookoo head!
Who ever made these rules? Why can’t I continue to make silly mistakes, say ridiculous things, wave my arms about when excited or irritated, be impulsive, do a sudden gig, make faces at obnoxious people and use all those cuss words like the young ones do all the time? Why do I need to act like an adult, speak only knowledgeable words and sound only stern or solemn?
Now consider this; my all time favorite dress has always been my blue denim jeans and a t-shirt. But of late I feel it doesn't suit my age and certain occasions. I get those looks from female species and you know what that means. Most outfits that look smart on the mannequins look ridiculous on me nowerdays. Why oh! Why do the great fashion houses and designers only create clothes for the 20s and 30s ultra slim and petite women?What are the rest of us suppose to wear? Leaves,animal skin and fur like in the Paleolithic ages?
My insides are facing the enemy too and losing out! Most days I can’t resist a second helping of that yummy mutton Rogan Josh and then the dreadful after effects the morning after, less described here the better for the sensitively endowed.The hot flushes, the thinning hair line and widening middle line all familiar territory now. The poor better half suffers my mood swings and impatience quite well (he has little choice!) Who would provoke the godzilla at home?
I am spear- heading towards the 50s too fast for comfort! What lies in store, God only knows, but I will definitely keep you posted. Take care friends and I hope all your aches and pains disappear as it just did for me (on completing this blog post!)
Find a hobby, there that’s it, that’s the secret to get the dreadful old age blues out of the system. Eureka! What a discovery!
40s should come with a warning! Sharp decline ahead!
First the kid leaves home to look for greener pastures .And the house falls silent. Deal with that, its heavy!
Now it’s just the two of us, me and my spouse and long evenings of discovering unique ways to eat each other’s brains for dessert!
The most dreadful thing of the 40s-the reflection on the mirror!
It’s a horror show most mornings. I look scary, bags under eyes, over- exhausted look, and hair oily and stuck to the scalp or dry and frizzy! There is either no color on my face or I look terribly tanned. Then there is the excess baggage pouring out from everywhere, the arms, the chin, the butts, the middles (why are they called love handles? Beats me, you can go figure, I am too disgusted by the stretch marks on it, eeewww!)
Then there are days when I can just about tolerate my looks. Layering on the cream, compact, rouge and all the works, I slowly start to transform into an extra-terrestrial. (These are my feeble attempts at what my daughter one day forcibly made me buy, it’s called make-up.) Make up for the loss of youth is what they actually mean, mean guys. You need make-up now ma, never step out of the house without it she said!
I will need a lot more then make up, more like amours of steel, that I tell you, but who is listening!
The thing I am most upset about is I can’t even speak the way I always used to. Society expects me to be polite, refined and sensible and if not then it isn't classy or you are a cookoo head!
Who ever made these rules? Why can’t I continue to make silly mistakes, say ridiculous things, wave my arms about when excited or irritated, be impulsive, do a sudden gig, make faces at obnoxious people and use all those cuss words like the young ones do all the time? Why do I need to act like an adult, speak only knowledgeable words and sound only stern or solemn?
Now consider this; my all time favorite dress has always been my blue denim jeans and a t-shirt. But of late I feel it doesn't suit my age and certain occasions. I get those looks from female species and you know what that means. Most outfits that look smart on the mannequins look ridiculous on me nowerdays. Why oh! Why do the great fashion houses and designers only create clothes for the 20s and 30s ultra slim and petite women?What are the rest of us suppose to wear? Leaves,animal skin and fur like in the Paleolithic ages?
My insides are facing the enemy too and losing out! Most days I can’t resist a second helping of that yummy mutton Rogan Josh and then the dreadful after effects the morning after, less described here the better for the sensitively endowed.The hot flushes, the thinning hair line and widening middle line all familiar territory now. The poor better half suffers my mood swings and impatience quite well (he has little choice!) Who would provoke the godzilla at home?
I am spear- heading towards the 50s too fast for comfort! What lies in store, God only knows, but I will definitely keep you posted. Take care friends and I hope all your aches and pains disappear as it just did for me (on completing this blog post!)
Find a hobby, there that’s it, that’s the secret to get the dreadful old age blues out of the system. Eureka! What a discovery!
No comments:
Post a Comment