Monday, March 07, 2005
In the Old Old Days it Happened at Age Twenty-Seven. But now the moment arrives at age forty-five (or there abouts) and I find myself writing this to a friend: Nice hint of spring today what? Too bad another storm front is on the way... Yes an imminent suntan a la Jamaica will certainly do a lot for the body esteem and lord knows I need it. Mind you I'm fit and trim as they come. But the problem is two-fold: it's the pasty pallidness of a half-year of winter and the fact that even though I'm a size 2, there seems to be this new-and-never-experienced-before skin shift that is getting me down... I believe in aging terminology that's called sagging... And working out more doesn't work. Then you just get that unattractive muscled/veiny look that only forty-something women who are trying too hard to stay in shape acquire. Hubby predicts that when I'm seventy I'll be a size -2. Oh great. Won't that look attractive... However seventy-something men have their own bed to sleep in. Or they go for the woman half their age.... Hmmm. I obviously need to let some things go here that can no longer play a role in my life going forward eh what?
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