What the Devil Happened?

I know the "Old Farts" reading this will understand. You "kids" out there, don't worry, your time is coming!

It recently hit me, I'm "Old!" How did I figure it out? Well....

First, I get cold now. I used to keep the temp in my office on "meat locker," but now it's uncomfortable and I have been pushing the thermostat up to (GASP) 70! I'm pleased to say, I still don't enjoy the heat much higher than that, which means I won't be able to wear long sleeves all winter (again) since I have to keep the heat up to 74 for Pa.

I like gloves now. Until last year, I very seldom ever gave in and wore gloves. Now, my hands start to hurt when I'm out in the cold, and my gloves are in my coat pockets to make sure I have them. I'm thinking about getting one of those string things that goes through the arms of your coat to hold your mittens/gloves. I may have a heart attack if I lose them! I know my hands would fall off...

I used a hood! Traditionally, I hate things on my head. Have not been a fan of hats, hoods, any of that stuff. I left the office today with the temperature sitting at 29, the wind blowing like mad, and used the hood on my coat for the first time ever. Of course, I was also cussing the construction people who have the sidewalk blocked for the next 3 years which makes us have to walk way out of our way to get to the parking lot. (Just dawned on me, I will be retired before that stupid construction fence comes down!)

My feet get cold. OK, they got cold before, but now when they get cold, they cramp and hurt. Which means I can't run around barefoot in the snow any more. (Yes, I did.)(I know, Mom said that, too.)

My sciatic nerve is a pain in...well... the rearend. Literally. Yes, it's been a problem for the past, oh, 30 years, but when did it get to be better at predicting the weather than the "weather men?" It was not a happy moment when I realized the more my butt hurt, the better chance we had of having rain or snow.

My eyes. Oh, yes, let's not forget them! How nice it was to hear the opthamologist tell me my cataracts are getting worse. Cataracts? Worse? Excuse me? Seems he thought he told me about them last year. Nope. But thanks for letting me have one more year of ignorance. I'd really rather not know. I think?

But now that I know about the cataracts, I understand why some lighting conditions give me a fit. And why driving at night is a pain in the tush.

I used to be worried about "cute" clothes. We all know our parents told us that some day being comfortable would be more important than being "cute." Danged if it didn't happen. And even if they are comfy, if they aren't washable and permanent press, forget it! (Iron? What's that? Wait, I'm sure I have one in the basement...somewhere!)

Shoes and I have never been good friends. Even less so now. There will be no heels, no pointy toes, none of that "fashion" nonsense. I want comfort!

There are some little things, like balance, that I miss. OK, it isn't that bad. But when I was a kid, I could spin in a circle, stop, and walk a straight line. No more. While the doctor doesn't know the cause, I have this little friend "Vertigo" that visits occasionally. First time I noticed it, the [jerk] doctor said it was just because I am "old and dehydrated." Yep, found me a new doctor.

Is losing patience a sign of getting old? It never used to bother me when I sat waiting forever for someone or something. Which is really a good thing since during the past 30 years I have spent a significant amount of time waiting for attorneys, judges, criminals, or all three. It gets on my last nerve now, tho. I start fantasizing about what evil thing I might be able to do, and get away with, to get even. Wait, is that passive aggressive?

There are some things that confuse me, tho. I have a touch of asthma now. Why is it most "normal" people have asthma as kids and outgrow it? Not me, I first had that little issue a couple of years ago. Isn't that regressing?

And my face. Or, more specifically, the oil on my face. When I was a teen, everyone said when I hit 25, my skin would dry out, so I better enjoy it. Well, THAT was a lie. Then it was supposed to be 30, then 35... Now, most of you know how old I am (or have a pretty good idea) and danged if I still don't get zits! Sink an oil well in my face and end all oil shortages!

I know, I'm really pretty lucky, my health is pretty good, but some days you just need to vent!