Remember when we were in our teens? We weren't young anymore but we weren't grown up, either. It seems I’m hitting my second youth. Or, am I actually crossing over to becoming a middle-aged woman and not liking it one bit?

I thought I could dance pretty well until my sister told me never to dance the way I dance in a club. Why? I would be kicked out.

Sigh.

The club scene isn't my idea of a great time. Just thinking about watching all of the young people dance makes me want to take a nap. I'd rather dance at home. Where real people cannot see and my imaginary fans adore every move I make.

I always did have a great imagination.

I've gone from looking great to looking good enough, from being a woman full of energy and vitality to being a woman who can 'conjure up enough to get by' and from feeling sexy to feeling awake. On rare occasions.

'Sex in the City' has turned into 'Nap in the Town' and George Carlin is looking a bit like George Burns these days.

What's a girl, um, woman, um, female, um...what the hell am I?

Argh!

What do people my age do these days? I have nightmares of all of us getting together to discuss droopy boobs and nasal hair. It's frightening! I don't feel sexy, anymore. All I have to do is look at my sister and know I'm way out of my league. When will the mid-life crowd be the in crowd? I don't believe we have ever seen the middle-aged crowd rule, children and older people rule. Middle-aged people work to keep the younger and older generations off of our backs.

Where's the justice in that?

Just as in our youth, being middle-aged means we know where we are going but we have to have patience to actually get there. Being middle-aged means we have to understand life is a journey and it takes a whole lifetime, whether it is short or long, to arrive.

This sucks!

I want to pout. I want to stomp around and pitch a fit! But I can't. I'm a grown-up now and have to pay my dues. I'm just not sure which bill is due and what amount to pay up. When God decided not to walk among mere mortals anymore, did God realize how frustrating it would be?

Or, has God been here all along, in you and in me, and I've been too faithless to realize it?

Perhaps the answer is somewhere in the transient.

Then, again, maybe I think too much.

Printer-Friendly Version

E-Mail This to a Friend