The weather’s changing and I’ve been very busy and in a constant state of really-tiredness. I think I’m gearing up for hibernation, but it could just be that I get really busy and forget to sit down and relax until I finally do sit down and relax and then I can’t get up.
Well, I can get up, but I don’t want to.
Because, y’know, dinner won’t cook itself.
None of this has anything to do with the post I was planning on writing. Because this post has to do with old people and the fact that I am now one of them – in some circles, and according to organizations like AARP and the local senior center.
Can you believe that I’m eligible to use the facilities at the senior center, but I still have to pay non-senior prices for lunch there until I’m 60. If you’re 60, you can have lunch for $3.00. If you’re under 60 you pay some weird price like $12.47. I know it’s over $12.00 but I can’t remember the exact price. Even the lady at the front desk said it’s not worth it: “Go get lunch somewhere else.”
Also, you have to let them know you’re coming for lunch by 11:00am the previous day. Who plans their lunch that far in advance? Unless it’s Thanksgiving or something.
All these rules. I don’t have to call the pub and tell them I’m coming. No need to reserve a plate of nachos and a beer.
I don’t think the senior center serves beer. They serve yoga.
It’s not dessert.
My point is, that I’ve been spending a lot of time around old people. People older than me. Between the seniors at that senior center, the seniors in residence at the nursing home where my uncle lives, and the seniors in residence at the assisted living facility where my uncle and aunt live, one thing has become painfully clear.
That is: If I don’t take better care of myself, I’m going to end up a) using a walker if I’m lucky, or b) end up catatonic spending my days between bed and a wheelchair, parked in front of a TV that only shows Dr. Phil wearing a bib while someone spoon feeds me pureed food, or c) volunteering in the thrift shop where none of the patrons will be able tell me apart from any of the other volunteers because at some point all old ladies look alike.
For now, I am so grateful for every day, and definitely for every day that I can get out of bed, shower, and get dressed under my own power. I can walk and exercise, drive and eat solid food, and I don’t need help in bathroom.
I think I’m pretty fucking lucky and I plan to keep it that way. Because, in general, once you go into a nursing home…