Yep. Another birthday is coming my way. The older you get, the less you pay attention to them. Well, your kids do, but all in all, I really keep my mouth shut about it. I mean, would I be bragging or complaining if I talked about it? If you weren't on Facebook with me (or reading this, which practically nobody does), only my children would know. I thought I even took it off my Facebook page, but someone (meaning my daughter) always says something and then we're off. Either that or Facebook, once it knows and no matter what you do, never forgets and sticks it up there at the top of the page.
Still, I never cared much about birthdays....everyone seems to get upset at the 0's...30, 40, 50 etc. I never did. Still don't. It's just another day. My ex hit the big 80 a couple weeks ago. We've remained on good terms, so I sent him a text. His response? "I feel like a spring chicken". Well good for him. That's the attitude to take and he doesn't give a damn about numbers either. He plays golf nearly every day. The thing is, we've both been blessed with good health. (Picture me knocking on wood here. You just never know.) What a difference that makes. My dad, who lived to his mid 90's got dressed (even put a tie on) and went to work every day until he was 92. So my words of wisdom are stay active, stay interested, stay busy. That's the ticket. Do something. Anything. And keep walking. Oddly, and this was a surprise to me, walking seems to be the one of the biggest problems as you age.
This isn't an "0" year for me anyway, but that one is creeping up really fast and I wonder how I'll feel about it. Probably the way my mother did in my very first post for this blog: "Who is that old woman in the mirror?"
Do you want to know my age? Do you have any idea what a skate key is?
I thought not. (That's my cousin on the ground....I probably pushed her. I was a little shit.)
So.....Happy Birthday, me.
Don't tell.