Tomorrow is the first day of the last year of my 50s.
Yep, turning the big 5-9.
Kind of two minds about it.
More after this Public Service Announcement…
Considering my general non-healthy lifestyle throughout my life, it’s probably a miracle I made it this far. I guess it’s never too late to turn one’s life around; been eating healthier, cut back on some of the excess. Still don’t get enough exercise but with some assorted age-related aches and pains it’s not easy to move these old bones. Trying to get better in that regard as well.
Overall it’s been a pretty decent life — too many deaths (both parents and parents in law now gone, other relatives, friends through the years) but I guess that’s par for the course. No siblings yet, and considering the age differences that’s a very good thing. Mr. Scribe and I have had a good 26 year run (27 if we make it to end of April intact). I’ve enjoyed my nieces, nephews, great-nieces and great nephews (technically could still be a great-great-aunt before I’m 60 which terrifies me).
OTOH, current events make me wonder if any of us will be around much longer, or even if it’s worth being around when you’ve got a racist misogynist asshole running the country. No, I’m not suicidal but it’s just hard to get inspired to do much when it could all go to shit at any moment.
Will my 60th birthday bring better news, or nah?