I just cannot believe this. I am stunned I am sort of old. I was talking to a woman in her late thirties who said she wished her mother had lived to 70.
The reason I say "sort of old" is that I don't feel old! When I asked exbf if I seemed "old" compared to women he knew that are my age, he said he did not think of me as old. Remember, he is seven years younger than I.
I did not get my birthday dinner on Friday because I felt so awful. I am not feeling much better, just a little better.
Plans for Sunday are not exciting to anyone else but me. I tried ice cream on Friday and the results were disastrous. So, there will not be any ice cream for me! Thursday, I think, I tried yogurt, not even good yogurt. The results were bad. I bought a gallon of milk tonight and will try just a bit to see how it sits with me. If I decide milk is not going to be in my life again, I will give it to exbf when he comes next.
Okay, back to plans. Saturday night, I bought pasta made of rice and water. Tomorrow, if I feel like boiling pasta, I will make a pasta salad. I have not had one for two months. So, this will be exciting. If I feel like baking, the Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffins will be baked.
If I feel like sitting up long enough, I may cash in my free ticket to see "Sully."
My birthday is a maybe, but there is still possibility!
I have been internet shopping/investigating getting a Food Saver for sealing food, a birthday present to me from me...lol. Somehow, I have money in two Amazon accounts but Amazon cannot combine them. Sooo, I have to make another phone call. Even though I still don't have enough to get the Food Saver, I need to straighten out the two accounts. That was going to be my gift to me. I will settle for being able to drink a bit of milk. Low expectations? Not really.
I hate being ill on my birthday, but this is allergy season for me. I have been very slowly getting better. So, maybe by the end of the week, I will be well.
Just now, I was thinking about past birthday presents. I can only remember two. The first was a biggie; the second was a running joke. When I was six, I got a pink bike. In my fifties, my best friend gave me a check that I used to repaint the living room and put up sheet rock on the ceiling. THEN, he called my Botticelli Red living room "that whorehouse red."
Well, I am happy to be 70, but stunned. It is still a shock to my system to think that number. Turning 40 traumatized me. Turning 50 and 60 were fine with me. 70 stuns me.
Have you ever been so sick on your birthday, you had really low expectations for the day? What age was the most traumatic in terms of being older?