Going South I-30 +

Remember when you were a kid and someone was in their thirties? They were OLD.  I mean they were getting to that age where they would be needing a cane.  Thirty was such a big number, I mean not only was it a double digit which on its own was worthy of respect, but it was the age many our parents were at.  Enough said.  So now I am turning thirty-one, yeah I know.  I don’t feel old rather I feel young. If only my body looked like I feel.  I have seen many thirty year olds, in fact all my best friends are thirty year olds.  Many are a lot tighter than me, I blame my kids.  I have four of them.  It’s not really their fault, I mean I could exercise but it’s easier to just blame them.  My ass and boobs have started to drift south.  So has my face, I blame gravity.  I am told I am the only one who sees this.  I guess it is the kind of thing a girl and her mirror sees. 

The irony of getting older is you get more confident in yourself as you have less to be confident of.  I mean, I find not giving a rats ass that my women’s bits are starting to drift south or that my belly isn’t flat anymore.  Maybe I am alone on this.  It’s not that I don’t want to look good, I do, that’s just it, I feel like I look nice in spite of these things.  I am a thirty something mom of four gosh damn it and I don’t have time to spend countless hours at a gym.  I don’t want that dermatologist to prick my face with nerve toxin.  I don’t dye my hair every three months; in fact I don’t give a crap that my white hair shows.  When I do dye it it’s only because I get sick of people pointing it out to me like I have no mirror in my house.  I must be doing something right most people think I am still 25, God bless them.

 I think it’s that you start to realize how fleeting things are.  How fast time goes by.  Each year comes and goes faster than the one that had preceded it.  It kind of scares you to think that the next thirty years will come faster than the last thirty passed.  It’s not that I know who I am, at least not completely but I know who I want to be and who I don't’ want to be.  I know what I want my life to have been when the time comes for me to croak.  I don't’ care if i leave a good looking corpse, I do care that people remember me as someone who led a  life that wasn’t wasted.  I don’t want fame, fortune or the fountain of youth.  I will be satisfied with wisdom if I live long enough to attain it.