Generation Out...

Suddenly I feel like I'm skidding downhill towards old age with uncontrollable speed, and digging my heels in doesn't help a bit! Screw the old adages that we're only as old as we feel or act or whatever other crap they throw at us. If you're in your mid sixties and seventy is beckoning you with a scrawny, wrinkled finger, you begin to panic! The empty hair dye bottle at the bottom of the garbage can sneers up at me, knowing that the temporary cover-up is just that....a cover-up! Who am I kidding? The hair looks young, but the face screams 'lady, you're pathetic!' Holy flipping cow! When did I develop wrinkles like a dried up creek bed! Creases the size of the Grand Canyon, age spots effecting the reception on my television, and bags under the eyes big enough to carry last weeks groceries! Don't get me started on the scaly barnacles erupting on my back, oh ya, real attractive. I'm sure if I were to meet that special someone, the minute he laid eyes on those, he'd scream like a woman and run for his life! Did I mention my saggy butt? And speaking of saggy....the boobs made a valiant effort about three years ago to keep the 'perk up', but gave up the fight shortly thereafter! I imagine they are thinking, what's the point..perky or not, these stretch marks serve only as tiny water drains during a shower. Loosing hair in strategic places only to be replaced on the chin, requiring constant vigilance with a mirror and tweezers!
Well, you get the picture....yup, aging is definitely not for sissies! I even scare myself when the mirror projects back an image of someone I don't recognize. Who could that person be? How come my mind keeps telling me I'm still young while my body denies it? How fair is that? Seriously....I don't want to slide into old age alone, but who in their right mind would want to take on a sight such as this? I sure wouldn't blame him....after all, in his eyes, he's still the stud muffin he always was...what happened to me?