I have officially been 39, for a 2 weeks and one day. That is all. Two weeks and one day into my year of being a bad ass and I already am questioning everything. Literally, EVERY-MOTHERFUCKING-THING! I feel less prepared for life than I ever have. And let's just call a spade a spade, I have some pretty questionable life moments that lacked preparation, i.e pregnancy (x4), committing to being a blonde, tattoos,and so on and so on..... In general I don't care if I'm making the "right" decision or think things all the way through. I follow my gut and play out the hand I'm dealt. I'm a "live and die" on the river kind of girl, always waiting to see what is the last card the dealer will flip up to make or break my hand. How's that working for me? I can't complain for the most part. But I'll be damned if the last two weeks haven't been a real test of my poker face.
This last week especially. Holy hell, who do I have to screw to catch a break in the health department! Endocrinologist, "It's not a tumor". Great, I'm not going to die. However, there is no other real explanation for why I run like a Kenyan, all be it a slow one, eat Paleo(ish) and stick to my meds (most of the time) that I should not be feeling better, losing weight and have the energy of a teenager. Well isn't that a gem! Even better, there is a medicine I could try, to fix that but insurance won't cover it! Yeah! Thanks for nothing. And on to the next one. Family Practice DO, "you sound like hell!". No kidding. Two days after I asked the Endocrinologist to listen to my chest, that he said was clear, I have pneumonia. Pneumonia, sinusitis, and a shot of Rocephin for good measure. Yeah me! Nothing like a healthy does of herpasyphagonilitis to make you feel like 39 is the new 80! Unless you spend any time with your kids and go to a doctor, then you will feel worse.
All jacked up on antibiotics and steroids with the oldest and I get to go for our eye exams. We both need new glasses, thanks to the dog and it's been a year or so. Driving out there is fun enough just listening to the difference between him at 19 and me at 19. I was a mother. He doesn't know how to do anything without his mother. I was married. He never wants to be married. It's all a fun forced family experience until the lady says bifocals. What the ? For who? Oh, um, no? I'm 39. I'm not wearing no damn bi-focals. Hysterics from the oldest as I except that not only am I old but also medications & Lupus have degraded my eyes. Bifocals for this beotch! Whiny and whipped I except my age & the things I can not change. Its going to get better. I get to go hang out with an old friend for my yearly contribution to the food service industry at the Lenten fish fry!
There are certain things that can not lie. One of them is my face. It is all telling. There is absolutely no way in hell that when a 15 year old table clearer, working community service, gives me sass about what her "job" is that my face didn't read " I will not hesitate to mop the floor with your face" even before the words came out of my mouth! Or when the nice young lady ordered the black bean burger and requested that it be cooked on a surface where "no flesh had ever touched", I'm sure my face said " you have got to be fucking kidding me. This is the Knight of Columbus. Every surface has had flesh on it! This is a fish fry!". The topper on the cake of the night however was, super cute hipster. He wanted a wheat & gluten free vodka. Not because he has Celiac's. He has an allergy to "something to do with wheat". He didn't want to go over the top with his drink and the beer battered fish. I know my face said, " You're getting Mohawk vodka & I'm charging you for Chopin because people like you make my life a living hell". I bit my tongue til it bled. I made it out alive and so did everybody else.
I promptly left as soon as the oil was cooled and drove straight to the corner bar. I ordered a cheeseburger medium rare with crispy fries. Pray for my non-practicing Catholic soul . I had two gluten laden cold ass beers and a fabulous lemon drop. My belly hurt the next day. This is exactly why I question my ability to make good decisions as a 39 year old woman! I'm sure I will continue to make questionable decisions. Maybe I will be more conscious of it. Yes, that is it. I won't throw the whole year out the window after two weeks and 1 day. So, I've had to start wearing bifocals. I have more face creams than letters in my name. I concentrate harder when I cough and sneeze. I bought a sewing machine because i figured I need to learn at my age. I have to take a few more medicines and probably need to control my impulses a bit. However, the cheeseburger was great. Cold beer is my Achilles heel. The lemon drop was worth it. Closing the bar on a Sunday sometimes needs to be done. And sewing could be cool.
Take Care of You