Friday, August 11, 2006

My birthday is almost here. Yay Me. Not.

I'm almost 36.  Yikes.  I really thought that I would be a grown-up by now; when is that supposed to happen, I wonder?  I mean, I know that I'm technically an adult: I'm over 18, have a job, take care of my responsibilities, give to charity, etc.  But I still feel like a kid on the inside, and sometimes feel like I'm a fraud.  Like I'm a kid playing dress-up, wondering why no one has called me on it.  "Hey, you!  You can't fool me!  You look like a old hag, but I know you're really 16.  How did you manage to get a real estate license?"
 
My best friend and sister in spirit, Cheryl, told me something about her mom that I remember whenever I feel like this.  Her mom said that one day she was looking in the mirror, and suddenly felt very sad.  She said, "When did I get old?  I see this old lady in the mirror, but when did I get old?  I still feel exactly the same on the inside, the same way I did when I was your age.  But now there's an old woman in the mirror."
 
Apparently I'm not the only one who feels that way.  I'm really starting to resent birthdays, especially with all the fertility hoopla.  Every b-day that rolls around is another reminder that my ovaries are going to start sputtering like a car running low on gas: it might still run, but you know it's going to quit at any moment.  Add in my PCOS issues, and the fact that it looks like my fallopian tubes are completely blocked, and this birthday is really starting to look like it might be celebrated by me, a pack of Camels, and a bottle of Beaujolais villages.

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