On days like today, when I need to pay bills and do laundry and I really should take the dog for a walk and probably get the oil changed and then when I go number two it takes me more than ten minutes I get to feeling just a tad old.
Not this kind of old. This kind of old is countercultural and pissy and full of vinegar and knows more about cuban cigars than Castro. This kind will break her hip kicking your ass.
And not this kind, either, who clearly would give anyone a massive guilt trip for breathing too much air or taking too big of bites at the table. This one will have an apoplectic fit and wind up in emergency because you squeeze your ketchup packet from the bottom instead of the top.
And much as I love this kind, the ones who are sweet and celebratory and know how to make "I love you" signs with their gnarled little fingers, I'm not feeling this either. Sorry, sweet old lady, cuddlier than a koala.
No, today I feel old in a completely unremarkable way. Like the hangers that have been in the closet for the past twelve years, quietly tangling and holding shirts and slacks. Like the floor, needing waxing but still keeping the rest of everything from dropping down into the basement. Like the deck railings, sturdy enough but cosmetically less than Restoration-Hardware-Catalog worthy. I feel old in the manner of invisible things that continue to serve their purpose, but by and large, are just not that exciting to think about.
I'm not too worried about this, though. The day itself is an old day. It started out that way and is likely to continue into the evening. It is cold but not bracingly so; it is rainy, but not stormy or passionate; it is cloudy but once in a while a sunbreak makes you think the weather will change, and then it doesn't. It is the type of day in which one is pretty sure not much of anything noteworthy is going to occur, but the important little things will soldier on, and the flowers not yet in bloom will work their quiet magic. We just won't see it today.
Today is a day in which the toilet paper roll is half full. Today is a day in which the bills are almost due. Today is a day in which the dog naps after having chewed his bone for exactly seventeen chews. Today is so ordinary, it's almost stereotypical.
And I am feeling exactly the same way. Far from my youth, but not of an age to be revered for my wisdom. Kinda like that toilet paper roll. Right in the middle of Average.
I colored my hair today. Nice. Not quite blonde, not really brunette anymore, and the gray is gone for now. I like this. I don't love it, but I like it. It's average, too.
Old lady inside me, get comfortable today. Tomorrow, it's possible the internal five-year-old will be in charge again, and we will be rolling.
Maybe. For now, we will take a nap.