Sag and Bag

It's depressing really.

I haven't even made it across the threshold from young adulthood into middle adulthood.
My Girl says my tush is falling to the back of my knees. My hands hurt when I stitch or paint too much. I can pop my hips, ankles and wrists just by moving. And let's not forget the eyesight, crows feet and grey sparklies. My one consolation is that part of me will forever remain 24... woot woot!
Why can't we be 94 and look 24?

Really, I guess there is nothing wrong with aging "gracefully". I'm just hating because I can't afford to be high maintenance. Don't judge.
Or... maybe it's the whole ingrained idea that I'm not a spring chicken anymore and who in their right mind would want me when there are lot's of reeces pieces hard body little gals running around.

It makes me wonder and worry. Am I going to end up the "Old Plant Lady" ... drinking my spiked lemonade alone on the front porch? All you would have to do is look in my office to see that I am well on my way. My mother was already remarried by this age... what about me?

I don't know. Maybe I am just losing my joy. We can blame the current section in my psychology book for this completely bizarre rant. My professor is the one who titled this stage the "Sag and Bag" stage. Blah.

I know... the reality of it all is this:

Life is gravy. My wisdom grows in leaps and bounds while my tush falls to the floor. (And really it's not.) I may not have my teenage hard body, but I have 2 beautiful babies and I have lost almost 50 pounds. I have the beginnings of crows feet because I smile... a lot! The grey hair that I have is so minimal most people don't see it unless it shines in the sunlight; hence why I call it sparklies.
And really... I may get lonely sometimes, but I would rather be alone than settle to be with the wrong person.... from my experience... it's totally not worth it.

On another note... 8.5 ornaments down... almost there.

Give a random hug to someone today.