Just A Year

What a difference a year makes.

Last year at this time, I changed my eating and exercise habits, did a juice cleanse, and lost almost fifteen pounds.  I got rid of all my one-piece bathing suits, and had all the energy in the world as I threw myself into some major home redecorating projects.  I felt good.

I went out on my birthday and a guy in line at the club I was waiting to get into gaped openly when I told him how old I was turning that night.

Yes.  I went to a club a year ago, and didn’t get thrown out for being too old, which has happened to me since then.

This year I’m thinking that those jeans that used to fall off me?  Should probably go to the giveaway pile, since they seem to be shrinking.  I’ve had a pain in my neck for four months, despite regular visits to the chiropractor.  And I skipped the gym today.  And last week.  And it just so happens that the guy at the bar I went into just this past weekend waved me right in as I stood in line behind a few others he was harassing for proof of age.  He didn’t even bother to make a show of asking me for ID.

And I guess I just painted a picture of myself as a middle-aged bar hag.

Whatever.  Did you know that Fig Newtons makes cookies?  I mean real ones, not the kind you used to eat at Grandmas.  Yum.

Last year at this time I was marveling at all the grey hairs on my head and decided to stop fighting them and let them grow.  But they still bothered me.

But this year, not so much.  This year, my perspective is that these things are just things that happen.  Life causes us to change.  I'm older.  I feel more settled.  I don’t hang onto the things that used to make me feel younger.  I’ve let them go, just like my one-piece bathing suits.

Which, jeez.  Maybe I should try to replace them, you know, because of all those cookies.  Or maybe not.  After all, I’m not 80.  Yet.

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