Things I thought I’d never do….

Lately, I’ve noticed a growing list of things that I do that make me “uncool.” These are things that, as a youth, you promise NEVER to do as an adult.

Topping the list is yelling at the teen agers next door to “Be quiet.”  Oh yes, I DID, and I’m not proud of it. But it was around 1:00 am and they were setting off firecrackers. They were laughing and seemed to be having a good time but, as stated in my earlier post, given a choice between my precious sleep and being cool… I choose sleep. I ended up feeling like Gladys Kravitz. (She was the nosy neighbor from, Bewitched, for those who might not know this reference.)

For the past few years I have enjoyed gardening. I know, so old sounding, right? You probably picture me wearing a sun bonnet, liver spots on my hands and stopping occasionally to refresh myself with some prune juice. It’s embarrassing. I love going to the garden center and learning about all the plant, shrub and flower varieties. What’s wrong with me? I took my son thinking he might enjoy it, or at least take an interest in something that I like to do, but he said he would rather shoot himself in the face then hang out there for one more minute.

Almost around the same time as my interest in gardening was piqued, I became addicted to genealogy. I subscribe to I spend hours digging through documents and following trails that lead me to, what I affectionately call, “My peeps.”   If you had told me when I was 18 that later in life I’d enjoy following a trail of dead ancestors, I would have laughed until I peed my pants.

Also, making the list that cements my uncool status are:

I have a “bad” back. Waking in the morning involves a few moans and groans. I sleep with a heating pad.

I go to Curves for exercise and do Zumba with a bunch of women that are old enough to  be my grandmother. All they do is march in place and talk about bowel movements.

I want to wear the same thing everyday. I’d invest in a uniform if I could. Something with a Mandarin collar would be nice.

Caffeine is my recreational drug of choice.

My social circle has shrunk. I’m no fun anymore.

I take long walks, you know, “Getting back to nature.”

The world is no longer my oyster. The future is no longer bright and glorious, unless we’re speaking of “the light” you know, at the end of the tunnel? I’m hoping my coolness will be restored on the other side along with my incredible good looks. : )

What have I learned about myself from this little exercise? That I will grow old kicking and screaming, I have no plans to be graceful about it. Underneath the uncool facade I am incredibly self aware.