I am literally vegging out...Eddie and I had boiled cabbage, corn-on-the-cob, tomatoes, onions, string beans, and cornbread for supper last night and it has made me feel so lethargic. I guess I should have eaten some protein with my veggies. Why does really good southern cooking make you feel like a blob? It wasn't fried. It wasn't really fattening foods. I guess it was full of carbs, though, and that's why I am still feeling the effects. I'm totally useless this morning. Eddie would say, "What's your excuse every other morning?" How rude! Other considerations for my malaise may include possible side effects of chronic constipation. Since surgery my inner workings have completely reversed and I am plagued with the opposite of before. I swear I am more irritable this way. My dearly departed, Great Aunt Gladys would have told me I need some Gas-X. I have never suffered from this form of torture before, 'N let me tell ya, it's a doozey, very unpleasant, worse than PMS.
So here's another touchy subject for you to contemplate. Age! Growing Old! Getting on up there! Over the Hill! 50-something and I have found, from experience, with age comes other horrors. I can remember (but I'm sure my memory will go soon, I hear it fades with age), when I was very young (just a tenderling at the time) sitting transfixed on my Grandmother Clark's bathroom floor watching and observing her as she plucked chin hairs and shaved (no lie, SHAVED!) her moustache hairs. I was appalled even at that young of an age, thinking girls just shouldn't have facial hair. Am I right or am I right? Girls are not supposed to have facial hair. I hate hormones! So when did I grow up to be my Grandmother Clark????? I now have to stand just inside of my bathroom window with the sun just right, leaned up on my tiptoes in an unbalanced stance with my face plastered into a 10X magnifying Beauty (HAH!) mirror with tweezers in one hand and mini-scissors in the other in order to snatch, pluck, tug, snip, and cajole all the hairs off my chinny, chin-chin. Not to mention all the ones above my upper lip. Okay, when did all these wrinkles and imperfections (some people call them age-spots) pop out all over my face (I thought only Leopards have spots). They weren't there yesterday. I swear they weren't, honest! Don't you believe me? and where did all these gray hairs come from (and now I have the ability to count all the hairs on my head, cause there are so few of them)? I have even started talking to and complimenting my hair in the shower, hoping the hair follicles will stay planted within their individual root shafts. Hey, I have to do something! What does it hurt, if I've gone completely insane and started talking to my hair? Would it be to nutty to even wish they might multiply? Actually, I think I know where the gray hairs came from and Shannon should be ashamed of herself for causing each and every one of them, LOL! Nah, her daddy may have caused a few. Ya, think? I want to know who came up with the saying, "With age comes wisdom?" I have decided I don't want to be wise! I want to be young and beautiful. Where is that "Fountain of Youth?" Let me at it!
I am glad I got that off my chest, and no, I don't have any chest hairs, thank you very much! No back hair either, Thank Heavens! I really shouldn't complain, should I? I'm alive and in love with my newlywed (almost five years now) husband. I have a wonderful family and a beautiful, loving daughter. That should be enough and it is. Really, it is, at this moment, I am truly happy with my bald-headed, wrinkly, hairy-faced, flabby-skinned, constipated, thinner, (and it appears, totally self-absorbed), useless self.
And how is your day?
October 13th: Saturday Sharefest
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