bonfire of the vanities
Okay, here goes.I'm getting old. OLD. I don't like it. It's not pretty. In fact, it pretty much sucks.
I've known it was coming--after all, I turned 40 in September. But I now have photographic evidence and it's not good.
Lately I'd been trying to have fun with it--buying a new wardrobe, enjoying all the shopping, all the sophisticated "What Not to Wear"-approved attire, avoiding the bathroom scale by keeping my eyes trained to just 2 feet above it as I step into the shower each morning.
But that ended this week when I saw THE PHOTOGRAPH.
At first, I didn't even recognize myself. In the photo, I am leaning over a student at her computer, earnestly helping her. My hair (far too short and matronly I now realize) falls forward, and almost, but not quite obscures the truly awful truth--the beginnings of my droop, my fleshy not-quite-double-but-definitely-not-single chin.
I bought a scarf.
posted by lit lover at
11:17 AM
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