Six weeks ago I turned 39.
Since then I've suffered from:
pain in every old "football" injury (ie. shoulder, lower back, hamstring, knee and foot),
random and seemingly unstoppable gas pain and bloating,
inexplicable deepening of lines and wrinkles around my eyes (hey, I'm using "Hope in a Tube" ok?),
my little patch of gray (normally discreetly covered by cheap dye and a strategic part) scattering across my entire head,
a black eye from the phone at work (hey, can I get worker's comp for that?),
and, a searing calf cramp from (get this) walking!!
Geez. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about getting older. With the whole 50 being the new 40, and 40 being the new 30 crap it gives us of the...let's say age-challenged group a reprieve from the usual aging fears. The number 40 doesn't scare me at all, but if this is what I have to look forward to then I may as well book a room in a local care facility now.
Please come and visit the hot, old maid in room 288. Bring cheese.
I guarantee you it will be a party!
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