I have probably written too much about age, aging and
its effects, but –
I’ve given up.
I’ve given up a few things, privacy in hospitals is a big one.
Trying not to wear a bra. Let’s face it, they’re still singing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” but the bra helps a little?
Trying not to let cleavage show, after all I am a woman!
Appearing with makeup to strangers.
Having the perfect hairdo with just the right amount of needed “pouf” here or there.
Polishing nails – its messy, I’m not good at it.
Caring if someone thinks leggings aren’t supposed to be worn at my age – they’re the only pants that don’t get caught in my wheels, and face it, they’re comfortable and easy to get on and off.
Answering phone calls from unrecognized numbers.
Thinking I have to make or bake all food.
Keeping dust off shelves and floor – I keep my glass door open for fresh air and in WY, that means constant dust!
Scrambling to get clothes out of the dryer immediately.
Ironing, I don’t buy clothes that need it.
Trying not to laugh out loud, or cry in movies.
As a person who might have a slight case of OCD, I feel I’ve come a long way. Oh well, I can only imagine what eighty might bring.