thirty-somethings

it must be the thirties which are doing it to me.
i’m moisturizing and carrying a purse which actually has lipstick and hand-e-wipes in it. i’m keeping an eye on my investments and debating whether increasing my foreign allocation would be prudent in the current economic climate. i’ve purchased property insurance in case of fire, flood, earthquake or robbery. i plan things like xmas baking and birthday gifts months in advance. i’m considering dying my hair to hide the greys which are invading my brunette tresses. i look forward to naps like very little else. i actually used the phrase “that was twenty-five years ago” in respect to something i personally experienced.
the biggest problem with getting older is that it’s only my body which is aging. in my head i’m still twenty-three. i can still run, jump and play like a twelve year old in my mind, but when i try to actually do such things, i end up limping like a geriatric for a week (whatever prompted me to try doing a cartwheel, i’ll never know). i feel young in spirit and attitude, even though my physical self groans and resists any urge to get up and play.
the wrinkles and the greys are coming. i have to find a way to reconcile my evolving outsides with the insides which still bubble up with youthful glee at the slightest provocation.