Getting old

Am I getting old? Well of course I am. Everybody is. Either you're getting old or the memories we have of you are. I guess what I mean is, am I old enough now that I do old things?

I realize that I'm starting to look old. I think it's ok when people look old, that's natural, something we're supposed to do. We expect that and accept it too. But GETTING old is a bit of a bother. I mean, if you're already old it shouldn't bother you. You should be used to it. But getting old means that you're adding oldness features a little at a time, which is hard to deal with. I mean when you look at yourself in the mirror and see that place on your neck that was never there before. It's an oldness place. It's a place where the skin is wrinkly and has gone bad kinda - sorta like you've already started to decompose. Old people look fine with a face full of that stuff but people who have a perfectly normal looking face except for a place or two that is getting old - now that looks bad. And you've gotta just wade through all that and be patient until the day you finally reach that point where you are completely old and now you look ok again.

Well that's not what this email's about. It's more about doing old things. Like, a few weeks ago. I stopped in at the guy's room - 'Banyos' - if you work in a public school in the South as I do. All I wanted to do was a quick number 1 because I was on my way to a meeting. It was a struggle. Couldn't find my number 1 tool. Had my unders on backwards. Plenty of room up front though, just couldn't get in the old entryway, since, of course, it was located around back.

Just last week when I went for coffee in the breakroom, there were 2 maintenance men sitting in there. Those maintenance men take a lot of breaks in the breakroom. I'm pretty sure they take one every hour. Both of them used to smoke cigs and they would go outside every hour to suck it up. I guess now they've kicked the smoke habit but still cling to that break habit. Well, they were there and they teased me good because the label on my pullover shirt was showing. Hell I knew that. I thought it was the style. But when they pointed out that I had 3 labels showing - and odd looking sewup threads too, I realized I had put the shirt on backwards.

So today I was picking my nose. Yes guys do that. No really, we do. You just didn't realize that we do things like that. Well I had been outside walking and I was a little moist on my nose. When I stuck my fingers in to search for a false booger I gripped, my hand slipped, and now I'm bleeding. I didn't cause a nose-bleed like the kind where you hit some mysterious on button up there somewhere and blood starts taking the gravity rout down your snout. No, I got this cut on the end of my nose. From my fingernail. That's gotta be old that did that.

And then there was the time when I wrote this email and forgot to send it. Found it today. Better get it out now before I old it away again.