These last few years of my life have taken a heavy toll on my mental and physical health. I find myself being forced on a daily basis to recognize, embrace, and be semi-proud(?) of my geriatric condition(s) and vast wisdom which supposedly comes with the elderly years. I am not so sure. There are times and situations that are profoundly humbling and a tad-bit, shall I say, messy? Hence, I’ve been reassessing my point in life right now and have come to the conclusion that… well, I am indeed “old.” I am more frail, more forgetful, more slow, more aware (and certainly respectful) of my bodily functions—my ‘organs’ sometimes have an agenda of their own that doesn’t always agree with mine—and more so when out in public realizing that many people around me are much younger than I.
I Know I’m “Old” When…
…You hear your favorite songs on an elevator. Or when you begin heading to bed around 8:00 or 8:30pm and wake about 4:30 to 5:30am. Geezz.
…Almost everything on or in your body hurts, and what doesn’t hurt stopped working years ago, like your libido and what it used to be (in happy harmony with) and engorge.
…The birthday candles cost more than your cake and were delivered by cargo containers on naval freight ships.
…In the morning you mimic an upside down turtle while trying to get out of bed.
…On the toilet you pull four rib muscles just turning or maneuvering to wipe yourself. Then you are unable to pull your britches back up. And speaking of the loo/bathroom…
…You can sneeze, cough, pee, and fart all at the same time! WTH? Which by the way, leads to more frequent wearing of “adult diapers.” Exciting, huh?
And then perhaps the most smacking moment that really hits you in the geriatric gut…
…There is nothing else “to learn the hard way” except how to not be lost when you forget where you were going and why.
Live Well – Love Much – Laugh Often – Learn Always – Then Forget It
The Professor’s Convatorium © 2023 by Professor Taboo is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
The Professor's Convatorium 
Pretty graphic, my friend. And BTW, you have a ways to go before you can truly say you’re “old” (like in your 80’s!).
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HAH! Well Madame, I am sorry you had to admit that on a global blog site for all the world to see and date you. 😉
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Did I say -I- was in my 80’s??? Nope. I merely noted that people in their 80’s are more inclined to be considered “old.” ☺️
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My father is 92 in a couple of months and while he might not be kicking he is still alive!
He says he gets annoyed and frustrated that his body won’t do what he wants it to.
I reckon we all feel like that to a greater or lesser degree.
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There is nothing else “to learn the hard way” except how to not be lost when you forget where you were going and why.
Oh dear, I think you’ve invited the universe to proclaim, “Just hold mah carbonated, malted, and hopped eau de vie and watch dis!”
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😂 LOVE it! And I will definitely “watch dat!” 😉
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You know your old when….
You read that this week is the 40th anniversary of Robert Palmer’s hit song Addicted to Love… and you think.. “Forty years! Jesus H, I remember when it was released.”
“sigh*
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BWAAAA! 😄 Sandy and I have changed the lyrics to that song Ark… “You might as well face it you’re a dick-head in love.” 🤭
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Celeste and I were chatting about the fact it is nearly six years since Covid and five years since we adopted our two boxers. She then remarked how odd it is that when we say 2025 how it feels old already.
In the blink of and eye….
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NO kidding my Friend; whoosh!
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