The Joys of Being Forty-Something

I’ve worked with people older than me most of my life and I would oh-so-smugly offer to hold papers across the table so people could read them. There comes a point as you reach the age of forty-something that you begin to realize certain things, like that’s really not that funny anymore, because suddenly, this happens:

 

I always assumed I’d know when I needed reading glasses and I’d have another reason to curse my Tyrannosaurus Rex like short arms. Instead things far away got blurry as my eyes attempted to compensate. Six months after I got a new prescription and a suggestion from my optomologist to pick up dollar store reading glasses, those pesky things far away got blurry again (never saw that coming). So I broke down and ordered a five pack from Amazon, because I know me and, well, I lose things. I swear the minute I put that first pair in face, I noticed this:

 

 

That’s right, my first grey hair is a crazy outgrowth of my eyebrows. I swear it wasn’t there before (though it is possible I just couldn’t see it). I like to believe it grew in cartoon character fast – put on reading glasses and **POP** there’s your grey hair.

 

Awesome.

 

I’m going to go price geritol. I’m not sure what it is but I have a feeling I’ll be needing it by the weekend. 🤓