Middle Age or Middle Earth

LizzieLou | aging,nablopomo | Thursday, November 8th, 2012

I have been taking part in a research study in which I: a) did some cognitive testing which indicated I still have my mental faculties (whew), b) told somebody my real weight (although I’ve been doing this more and more because who do I think I’m fooling any more?), c) gave some blood, and d) had my height measured too. That last one was the only difficult part. For years I’ve been going to the doctor for regular appointments and such, and while they will weigh me Every Single Time (tetanus booster = need to weigh, really?) they very rarely bother with my height. That said, one time recently that the medical assistant did take my height she gave me (what I thought then to be) an extra three inches. I must have had some big hair that day (bigger hair = lower BMI). In short, I have been thinking for years that I am around 5’10 1/2″ so I could round up to 5’11”. But, that’s not true any more (if it ever was). According to my latest study related measurement I’m now just, only, exactly, 5’10”.

So I’m shrinking.

Then, my shoes started pinching. Actually they started pinching longer ago, particularly with my tennies. I thought they were just shit tennies. The shoes that fit the best started falling apart and the ones still true and sturdy were so bad that I seriously considering walking on the sidewalks downtown in my socks. I think I even gave myself some nerve damage which has manifested itself as an extreme, specific, periodic itchiness just on the tip of my right big toe. Or, I as I like to call it (shoutingly), “TOECH!” For my birthday, Lolly (weary of the toech) treated me to some new shoes. We went to a local place and they said that I am not a size 10, that I am a size 11.

And my feet are growing.

One morning at work I was reporting these latest developments to my friend and I commented that with my self-shrinking and my feet-enbiggening and the general getting-hairierness I’ve been experiencing I fear that I am turning into a hobbit. She said, “Cool! Now you can have second breakfast!”

M

LizzieLou | aging,nablopomo | Wednesday, November 9th, 2011

Today at work I thought of something I wanted to remember later when I got home. It was a fleeting thought, but a good one, so a grabbed a blue pen and made an “M” on my wrist so I could recall it when I wondered why I had a blue M on my wrist later in the day.

Well, that was only about 45 minutes ago and I’ve already forgotten what the M is for. I remember deciding where to write it on my wrist and why, and how I was careful not to smear it while it dried. But as to what I was supposed to remember… no idea. Except, that I am pretty sure that it is something that is a word that probably starts with M.

Money.
Mommy.
Monkey.
Margarine.
Moving.
Murder.
Mmmmvashnik.
Movie.
Mail.
Moustache.

Ok, that helped. I remember now. It was Moustache!

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