Bust a Move? More Like Bust a Hip…

Electric Robot

OK.  It’s official.  I’ve lost my mind.

If that’s not bad enough, it has been replaced with a mind that is 20-something years old. I don’t know how (or why) this happened.

I admit I am enjoying some fresh thinking, and taking a vacation from the worn out tapes my former mind played. Some days it’s scary, though. Like the day I caught myself watching COPS!. And I have this thing for Lucky Charms lately.  I would call for help, but beside the Ghostbusters, who would I call?  My medical doctor, my gyno, or my therapist?  So far it has been…  interesting around here.

Since turning 20-something I have been staying up later, agonizing over what to wear to work, and wearing more make-up. Make-up is a waste of time, because no matter how much I plaster on, I don’t look 20-something. I keep trying new beauty products and hoping something  magical will occur. Denial can be an expensive alternative to reality. (Just ask my very happy Mary Kay lady.)

What  really SUCKS is that my body is 30-years older than I am.

Think about it. Aside from the obvious downfalls (vanity, pride, and more vanity), it’s dangerous. 20-somethings don’t think twice about rushing around in a hurry to get things done, skipping meals, doing yard-work for 5 hours straight, spending hours on their feet. Us 50-somethings pay dearly for this behavior -and usually pain is involved.

20-somethings (mostly girls, but not always) love to  listen to loud music and dance while they work around the house. I do this.  My former mind did not like hip-hop, so my iPod was lacking any such music last week, when I got the urge to “bust a move”. So I did what any 20-something would do in this crisis situation. I blasted the stereo. To heck with the neighbors – they make noise more than I do!

Oh man, that was fun! I thought I was moving so fine, until I caught my reflection in the mirror. This girl is not ready for prime time, in fact I thought I saw a rusty old robot shorting out in my hutch.  I felt like one too. Luckily my chiropractor had an opening right away.   I’m so glad I changed my mind about the break dancing.

I bet my guardian angel is exhausted. I know I am.