I attended a birthday dinner last night for someone who is right around my age. She was telling me how much she is looking forward to 50 in a few years and how liberating it will be.
What. The. Fuck?
To me, that is like looking forward to the root canal because you really dig the Nitrous oxide.
No. Just No.
Men can look forward to 50. They can look forward to that distinguished look of gray around the temples and experience lines around their eyes. They get to feel relieved that the kids are gone and they can now spend their money on green fees and sports cars that they look ridiculous driving.
But women? Women can only look forward to more trips to the salon the cover the gray, painful botox injections and buying shoe inserts to go in the pumps that make our legs look great but irritate that fucking bunion that just appeared one day.
Yes, my friend does have the right attitude. She is secure in her relationship, secure in her head and ready for the next adventure in life.
Me? I have yet to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. The thought of finding peace where my head is at now is like being happy that I got half way through a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle and giving up and putting the pieces back in the box.
NO! I say. NO! I am going to finish that freakin' thing even if it is all black pieces and I am going to glue it together and put it on the wall of the old folks home.
But for now, I am going to continue to sort out the straight pieces so I can at least finish the outside.