On getting old
So far I’m okay with being 38. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Two amazing babies. A top-notch partner. A job that I mostly like. A house that I love. Financial freedom. There might even be an old M&M rolling around under one of the cushions of this chair. Lots of people have a hell of a lot less and are happy all the fucking time, so what’s MY PROBLEM?
Actually, lets all agree that people who are happy all the time are the ones with a problem. Even if the problem is just that I don’t want to hang out with them.
But I think there’s a part of me that’s freaking out. I’m having a serious case of MyClothesDon’tFitMyHairIsBlahIShouldWearMakeup-itis. This happens every so often and I usually beat it back, but this year it’s not going AWAY. I mean, I’ve been having dreams about cutting my hair for weeks. I think it’s because I am now so very, very old. I seem to be spending more time wondering whether I should make an effort to look better.
I keep thinking about this backhanded compliment my brother gave me a few years ago: It’s clear you don’t care about your appearance. I know what he meant and it’s not as insulting as it sounds. But I do care about my appearance. I just feel like it’s futile to do anything. Here’s the basic cycle my thoughts go through.
Some of you must go through similar things. Or not. Maybe you think anyone who worries about this one way or the other is silly. Whatever. I’ll have you know that I AM silly.
Am I having a mid-life crisis? Will this just go away? Will it get worse? Do I need to take a course in gender studies next semester to get me out of the cycle? I get free tuition.