Hey it’s only Tuesday and I’m already longing for this week to be just a distant memory in my rearview mirror. No joke. It hasn’t been all bad, but it could use some betterment.
I’ve come face-to-face with my own mortality.
Sounds more than a little ominous, doesn’t it? Well relax, I haven’t almost died or anything remotely like that. I’ve merely realized my life is rapidly moving along.
I’m not as young as I once was.
I’m not as old as I’m going to be either.
It’s nice that way. Until you realize:
I’ve never been this old before.
Such nostalgia usually only hits me in March around my birthday. But it’s not March and it’s not my birthday.
I’ve been noticing more and more lately, especially in the past few weeks severe joint pain. Mostly in my fingers. On my right hand. I know I already have arthritis in my legs, so I am safely concluding that this is merely more arthritis. Yay me.
This morning I took a lovely trip to the optometrist’s office. Where they dilated my eyes, blew puffs of air into my peepers and took a rather invasive photo of each eyeball. Well actually they took three photos of the inside of each eyeball.
And I paid them to do it all, thankyouverymuch.
The end result?
My eyes are bad. Like I didn’t already know that. I was 17 before ever setting foot into an eye doctor’s office. When my first pair of glasses came in, I was astounded at how trees and grass really looked. I was astonished to find my pastor really did have a face.
Lately, my pastor has been once again, losing face, and the open Bible in my lap keeps getting picked up and moved within inches of my nose. And the tv screen is awfully blurry when I look up from my crocheting to see the latest football score.
Any guesses what the illustrious optometrist told me today?
Bifocals are in my immediate future.
Arthritis and bifocals at the same time. Aren’t I one lucky girl??
Mr. FullCup is pushing the envelope to the next decade of life, I’m barely in the middle of the decade we’re both in. He has no arthritis and no need of bifocals. Again I ask, aren’t I one lucky girl?
No, really. Don’t answer that.