This is the year

December 3, 2014
Day 217

I guess I always knew this would happen, but it's surprising me anyway.  40 seems like a normal age to finally start showing the usual signs of aging, but for me, it's definitely been 39...my 40th year.

Part of me wonders if it's because I chose to document my 40th year of life in this daily journal, because I truly am taking a long look at things every single day of this year.  But I think just as likely is the chance that my body's finally ready to begin crumbling.  Muscles, bones, organs, tissue--all of it has begun deteriorating at a frightening pace, and I fear there's no escape now from my imminent, ultimate, irreversible demise.

Too much?

Okay, fine.  All I know is, this year is when it all started.  This is the year: 39.  Mark your calendars now, younger friends!  Your 40th year of life on Earth, the year you're "happily" still 39?  Yeah, well, Father Time, that son of a bitch, is gonna come for you a little earlier than you'd originally guessed!

You'll be looking at yourself in the mirror one day and then bam!  White hairs are waving at you from the hairline above your ear, and more start sprouting up in your facial hair too.  Just as you're forming the words What The Fu--, your heartburn will start up, followed right afterward by pain in your knees, back, and feet.  You'll stumble to the couch just in time for your vision and hearing to get a little worse all of a sudden.  And then, as you put on your glasses to watch TV, you'll realize how stupid the shows and music of "this generation" is becoming.  A kid will run past your house calling to a friend and you'll shout, "Shut the hell up!" and you'll shake your newspaper at him, or your fist, whichever is closest (don't hurt yourself now).  Finally, you'll sit back down to watch your TV and wonder why the dang thing freezes up as much as it does (you'll start saying dang more too).

All of this begins, my dear, dear friends, at age 39.  Yep.

Resistance is futile, too, so just put on your favorite cardigan, pour yourself a nice delicious glass of prune juice, and line up your regimen of pills.  Oh, and don't forget to stop by at Old Joe's Barbershop later.  Really need to get those ear hairs trimmed a bit, dang nabbit!