Ok, wow. It's 47 minutes after 12 a.m, June 16. And I am now officially 50 years old.
Yeah. Doesn't quite roll off the tongue, does it?
Fifty. The other f-word.
Your tongue is barely involved with that word, it's all teeth and lips, sharp consonant edges and harsh air. Lends itself well to cursing.
Because I am now officially 50, I am suddenly old and sleepy and I'm not going to drone on here, now at 12:55, about the angst, the regret, and the aches and pains of middle age. No, I'll save that for a book. A funny book. A darkly funny book that chronicles the year after 50. Maybe with cartoons. And I'll use some of this blog stuff. I can do that, right?
So folks will know that 50 sucks, but it's manageable. Perhaps, if I say it here, on my very little-read little public blog...maybe I'll be compelled to really do it.
OK?
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1 comment:
okay. I guess you had to turn 50 before you finally started blogging again. It's alright - we, your very patient public, await more blogs.
H.
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