Getting old. I'm told you are only as old as you feel. OK. Let's go with that. Today my knees feel about 80. My back feels close to 70. My eyes are 60. My psyche is about 12. My sensuality is subject to change when he gets home from work. My interests are about 30. My sense of humor is iffy. And I'm still not sure how I got to this age. If I average the things I listed I'm not doing so bad.
I have a very young boyfriend. He's 25 years younger than me and we will celebrate 24 years of living together in April. You'd think that would make him much younger than I am. And in calendar years that is true. But I moved a small thing on the kitchen counter yesterday and he went bonkers. Change is something that throws him. And Friday our clothes washer began to smoke while not being on. A possible fire. He jumped right up, unplugged everything and got the offending object outside. Yet on Saturday while we waited for delivery of our new washer, he was freaked out because it wasn't normal. So I'm in some ways questioning the meaning of age. I don't have a problem with change. It seems to be the normal part of life. And there are times I think he is older than I am. So again, age is a strange thing.
I have had some physical problems that really tick me off. I don't use any more drugs than absolutely needed. Diabetes, slow thyroid, and high cholesterol must be medicated. Depression, which I have discovered is not something to sneeze at, must be dealt with. And acid reflux must be dealt with. And I'm doing it. But you know what? Those things don't make me feel old. When I feel old is when I am bored. Boredom, I believe is the most aging thing there is. My boyfriend(that sounds odd at 67) is not boring, usually. There are so many things to do, to see, to learn. Boredom is my idea of aging.