me at 60 years young
a few weeks ago i accidentally let myself run out of deodorant. i knew i was running low but thought i had an extra stick set back somewhere. maybe in the make-up drawer or under the new pack of toilet paper? the next day the extra stick was nowhere to be found and i thought ok i'll just stop at cvs on my way to work at the antique mall and buy some. slow-moving traffic and a long line at mcd's (did everyone
fast forward to the day of my 60th birthday and my daughter wanted to take me out for dinner and a movie. i wanted to see a romantic comedy but there was nothing playing so i suggested we see lincoln. from the get-go i was captivated by the cinematography. the cigar smoke floating in the light from the window was mesmerizing. daniel day lewis was wonderful. i've always loved james spader and he did not disappoint. but overriding all of these thoughts and feelings was a nagging memory of my afternoon without deodorant. my mind kept focusing on how many un-deodorized, cigar-smoking men were closely gathered in the room. remembering how badly i reeked after only a few hours, i seriously wondered how they could stand each other's company.
at this point, i was struggling big time to hold my giggles inside. i kept telling myself to straighten up and act like the adult that i surely ought to be at 60 years old. but it was nearly impossible to do. it didn't help that my bladder was bursting. and then, in the middle of that bladder-wrenching hilarity, i had an epiphany. i knew that i was back. i was okay. i had weathered a relentless, sometimes hopeless, always painful, mid-life crisis and i'd come out on the other side. still laughing, still loving life, still poking fun at myself -- i was 60 years old and i felt whole and happy.
and then i got up and giggled all the way to the bathroom to pee.