When I started writing this blog I had a hard time coming up with material to write about that wasn't embarrassing or too personal. I knew that my mother, pastor, and quite possibly old boyfriends would be reading. I didn't want to give too much of myself away.I got over that quickly, as it turns out that I don't really have too much to say that isn't personal or embarrassing. My need to write edged out any shame I might have from my propensity to reveal TMI.
Plus, it's refreshing to air out your thoughts to people
Anyway, I amuse myself, and during one little flurry of self-entertainment made up this joke that I brought out a few times in mixed company. It's awkward and no one but me liked it or got it, so I put it out on the blog to get it some love.
So far, it's gotten like seven hits. From me, probably.
But I am approaching a pretty big milestone birthday this weekend, and this famous joke that I introduced three years ago is appropriately timed.
Evidently three years ago I was worried about this particular birthday, and now that it's here, I'm more intrigued that I am turning this age rather than dreading it. I keep expecting to turn into one of those women who they feature in magazines with the headline Fabulous At Any Age!
A lot of time is spent in my own little fantasy world, I guess.
So here it is. If you want to see it in all its glory, you can go back to the original post. But why would you? It's right here:
I went to the gym two days in a row this week, after taking the summer off to goof around at home all day. Now I am stiff and sore and I feel Old. And then this just happened:
At the door: Knock, knock.
Me: Who’s there?
At the door: Forty.
Me: GO AWAY