Mr Indemnity and I were talking about how close our respective EyeGuys have told us we are to needing bifocals, and I reminded him that I was told I was just a few years away in the very same conversation that I was informed my dry eyes were very common in women "approaching 50." This led to a little mini-rant on how it just isn't possible that I'm almost fifty. I mean, I have a grown child, so obviously I can't delude myself into thinking I'm a young woman. And I've had more doctor's visits in the last year than in, probably, the previous ten, so obviously my body is falling apart. But goddamn it. I can't possibly be closer to death than childhood.
In a way, I've been lucky that, since my mid-30s, I've had various older women friends over 50 who didn't seem "old", who didn't seem to have given up and settled for being stodgy, uninteresting, unattractive, and whatever other stereotypical adjectives you could pin on women approaching, or through, menopause. They were learning and doing new things. They didn't dress solely from the Dowdy Department at LLBean. They were interested in sex. (Coincidentally or not, they all also live(d) in the city [which just reinforces my own opinion that suburbs=death] and they are/were all in long term marriages [which just reinforces my opinion that I'm doomed, I guess.]) But, anyway, y'know, I've had role models. I'm not going quietly, and you can pry my hoodies and funky shoes and lace camis from my cold dead hands and/or feet and/or pudgy belly, bifocals or not.
In summary, fuck you again, Eye Guy. And I can't be closer to death than childhood. There was a point to all this. Really.
xoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment