After nearly over 2 months of weddings, graduations and christening parties, I have decided I am not as young as I used to be. It's not that I mind that most of the time. It's just that there are days when I'd really just like to get out there, kick up my heels, party like it's 1978, or 1979, and not spend the next day nursing my ankles or knees through the latest episode of joint stiffness and pain.
There are days when I look in the mirror and see that my dimples have headed south to my jawline. That I have parentheses from nose to jaw. It seems to me my upper lip used to be plumper, but I have one so I shouldn't complain. Time has marched on, and it seems to be trying to trample me in the process. So far, I'm winning the battle to stay alive.