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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...


Cave Girl in the City

Slowly, and ever so steadily, the fall days have me worshiping at the altar of the hibernating mammal within. I'm still caught off guard by the earlier and earlier descent of the sun, feeling like my days are being abbreviated, stopped short by uninvited punctuation. Instead of the 10 pm switch from my anything goes musical tastes, the change to smooth and easy listening starts to happen somewhere around 6. Bass heavy rhythms feel like a violation and I start seeking my crooners, waxing poetic about love in its many phases and forms. Just typing this is making me feel old...

Maybe I am. When I make an appearance out at some friend's function to celebrate the Beautiful People, I get a lot of, "DAMN GIRL!! You still look good!" It makes me wonder what I'm supposed to look like? When I look around at my peers, younger and older, I am often surprised by the lack of self care, the big bellies, and the dark and tired eyes. I don't understand this commitment to hard living and hard loving, aging folks faster than is necessary. I often get laughed at for the things I won't eat, or the decision not to drink socially from time to time. I get asked all the time why I bother to exercise, "ain't nothing wrong with your body, Girl." Maybe--wait for it--because I take care of it with all that crazy healthy living I do.

Part of healthy living, as my students helped me to define what physically fit means, is getting enough rest. I'm not the chick you'll find in bed on the weekends past 9 am, unless I'm really tired and then I can sleep til 10. I do appreciate my 8 hours, and try to put myself in a position not to miss out on a minute of that time, but I'm not a sleeper. As these days see more of the chill of winds blowing in from the Midwest and the oceans, I will be doing my lethargic best to surface every once in a while to move my body at a dance class, keep my refrigerator stocked, and let friends marvel that I didn't manage to age years in the months since they last saw me. My most important relationship is the one I'll soon rekindle with my down comforter, carrying me through til the months return where all it takes is a little sunshine to warm my home and my winter white skin is chased away by sunkisses.

I may be slow for a while, but...

Watch me move.

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