Mortality knocked on my door today, utterly uninvited … that bitch.  I mean how rude. Here she is showing up as I am drifting happily along in the cheap hotel jacuzzi of my denial.  She hides her house warming gift in the middle of the thicket that is my pony tail. A gray hair. SONNOVABITCH.

And now some context …

We gray very slowly my family.  My mom at 64 has very few grays.  My Nana passed away at 78 still salt and pepper.  It was my expectation that my hair would stay brown (or whatever the hell color it is) until I was at least 40. But alas no. “Fuck you lady.” says The Universe.   “You gotta get old too.”

Heartless.  Just heartless.  I was able to get on with my day fairly well, although I could not escape the feeling that I was being chased by something, like … my future.  Visions of crumbly bones, sagging jowls, and Depends had me on the run.  Granted some of these fates are avoidable with dietary changes and an increase in exercise, but the water in this denial jacuzzi is so blasted warm and comfy that I don’t know if I feel like …

It’s not the dying part I’m worried about. It’s the growing old and “losing” the things I do like about myself. Like my taunt, clear skin.  Hell, I just started liking my fat ass and eventually it’s gonna get to looking like an empty trash bag.  It’s another one of those universal lessons on the impermanence of things I s’pose. “The only thing that is certain is uncertainty”, I hear Eckhart Tolle whisper in my head as I sob quietly into my youth rejuvenating tea.

It’s like 50 First Dates.  I have to keep finding ways to fall in love with myself everyday.  It’s a challenge that I’m up for most days, but others … well that’s where my jacuzzi comes in.  Join me.  The water’s nice ;).

Rosie.

So much to aspire to, so little time.