old

It’s official: I am old. It’s only 11:36 as I type this on my iPhone and I am in bed. I can no longer stay up late working every night. I. Am. Old.

At the end of last month I turned 36. I always loved the getting older part of birthdays until this year. When I turned 25 I couldn’t wait to turn 30. I felt like I had been 30 since I was 16. But this year, something changed. No, scratch that: A LOT of things changed. Such as:
* I need more sleep. I’m in bed by midnight most nights now. If I stay up until 1 or 2, I’m sooo tired in the morning. Forget my ol’ regular 3am bedtime. When insomnia does hit lately, I just want to hug it like an old friend.
* my metabolism. I used to eat all day & all night, almost whatever I wanted, with little effect. Now? I have to watch what I eat and if I watch too closely the food transfers through my thoughts onto my thighs. I swear: I think about food & I gain inches.
* my bones hurt. can one actually FEEL osteoporosis happening?
* my eyesight. I have had the same eye prescription for decades…until this year. Suddenly, my eyesight is slightly worse.
* my immune system. Don’t even think about sneezing in the same room because I’ll probably get sick.
* my ability to pretend to give a sh*t. Actually, this is a plus of old age. Never mind.

So now it’s just past midnight and I’m about to go to bed, give this old body a decent 6 hours of sleep. Tomorrow I will be older than I am today, and for the first time in my life, I’m not liking that fact. And as a grumpy old fart, I reserve the right to complain about it.