Betrayed

I've been betrayed. My body has joined the enemy camp. Every morning I get up feeling like I've been assaulted by a rampaging hord of rabid pachyderms. (Who left the door open?) First order of the day is to walk around at least five minutes before I can really "walk". That is after I've let the Persian princess out because her bladder is bursting, being sure to avoid any slimy hairballs she may have gagged up during the night.

When I'm ready to go,it's paramount that I find my glasses to see if I've made a mess of my makeup and hair. What did God have in mind when he created aging as part of the human experience? It's all a cruel joke when I look in the mirror to check for wayward chin hairs. Of course, I can't see them in a mirror even with my glasses on. I have to wait until I get in the car on a bright sunny day...then I find the suckers! Oh my word! I've been walking around looking like a teenage, mutant, ninja porcupine. Who stole my tweezers?

I seem to be investing (or wasting money) on a new wardrobe every year or two because gravity is winning the battle. Thirty plus years as a desk jockey have definitely not been kind to the old derriere. Men get gray around the temples and sport a potbelly and they think they look rugged. If a woman does the same thing, these men are out looking for some little twit 20 years younger to show they still have "It". I sure don't call that justice.

My body thermostat is now riveted at "Freeze" or "On Fire". I think I should make up a new setting called "Whacked Out". It might be 80 degrees outside and I'm all bundled up in a sweater shivering. At the opposite extreme, everyone else is shivering and I'm glowing like a radio active torch and sweating profusely. My ears especially like this setting. What normal person goes around with one/or both ears the color of a stop sign?

Other than that, life is beautiful. First thing tomorrow morning I'm going to get on my hot line to God and tell him maturity sucks.

I'VE BEEN BETRAYED!