As I was sneezing, coughing and blowing my nose into another Saturday morning, my mind turned to breakfast. As I thought of the usual scrambled eggs and salmon; I thought why not comfort food. I am 63, am certainly no waif like model or have any aspirations in that direction, have been sweating profusely at the gym for 3 months and have lost a grand total of 4 pounds. I just bought a size 18 dress for a formal dinner I will go to tonight and the only shake, rattle and rolling I will do pertains to my fat and not my money-maker or variations thereof.
Why not do what I want do and to hell with the rest? Can I spend my life fearing the consequences? Yes.
I can eat and drink what I want to but then I am subject to gaining weight-which is ugly. The health consequences are even worse. Death is inevitable but if I can stave off diabetes, high blood pressure and a heart attack then I will certainly give it the old college try. Hello gym, on a positive note, my personal trainer is very easy on my 63 year old eyes, but he was clueless as to who Antonin Scalia was-1 out of 2. I'll take those odds
I can spend money until the world looks level and I will float on a temporary high-it only lasts until the bills come rolling in. Shopping is comfortable-it is something I have done all of my life- and with considerable flair. Unfortunately I am retired (and all that entails) and the bucks no longer ca-ching with regularity.
My husband of 42 years happily plays golf twice a week with reckless abandon . He played golf the day after his mother passed away. Damn. Also, he is pencil thin and works out every day and runs 4 miles most days. I don't have that masochistic bent.
My children are a continual surprise-they are happy, healthy and quasi-well adjusted. Kinda like me.
I love them dearly and they will miss me when I'm gone.
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