Move It!

They say confession is good for the soul, so here I go. I'm not a very patient person. I'm better than I used to be, but I'm not sure that's saying a lot. Also, I feel like I never have enough time to do all I need to do plus all I want to do. So, I'm usually concerned with doing what I need to do in a timely manner (read: I rush around madly) so I can get on with what I would rather be doing.

Well . . .

Yesterday afternoon, as soon as my last class was over, I headed to Walmart. Now, I didn't really want to go there, but I didn't want to give up any of my precious Saturday or Sunday buying groceries either, so I went.

I started out at a nice pace, quickly grabbing what I needed and tossing it into the buggy, but my efficiency didn't last very long. Somehow, no matter where I turned, there were two little old ladies on motorized carts in my way. They would park side by side in the aisle and talk. Or drive side by side. Or I'd go down an aisle that was partially blocked by a stocker and they'd be lined up and parked on the other side, blocking the whole thing. Several times I changed my game plan to get out from behind them, but it made no difference. Everywhere I turned, there they were. I made it to the produce section, and they'd beat me there, somehow, and pulled up to things in such a way that I couldn't even get around them. I felt rude just standing there, waiting, waiting, waiting . . . but I didn't know what else to do. At least I didn't sigh loudly and tap my foot.

I bet my blood pressure was through the roof.

I don't think I'm gonna be a very good little old lady.

And You Would Want to Do This Because . . . ?

If you want to give yourself a nightmare, and you have an extra $9.99-$19.99 lying around for a "monthly content"

subscription, check out Make Me Old. Maybe it's a conspiracy to make you buy more Oil of Olay.

Thoughts for My Day

Today is my birthday.

I remember when birthdays were exciting. They meant cake and presents and parties, or finally being old enough to drive, or at last being able to call myself an adult.

Birthdays, now, are very different. Oh, I still have a birthday cake--my family sees to that. I get a nice meal that I don't have to cook (or clean up after). And I usually get a present or two, which is nice, but the promise of gifts is no longer something that makes me too excited to sleep. And since I'm already driving and have been an adult for a pretty good while, I feel no need to mark the days preceding my birthday off the calendar in a vain attempt to push time forward.

Now, birthdays sometimes sneak up on me. They catch me unawares. I'm how old? Really?

It's not that I have a phobia about aging or mind telling my age. I guess it's just that I'm surprised at how quickly life passes.

Instead of cake and presents, what I now think about on birthdays is what a great gift life is, and how I only have one. I want to live it wisely. I've been making a point lately of seizing moments, usually small ones, and consciously living in them--experiencing them instead of letting them slip by, almost unnoticed. I've been asking myself what gives me joy, and then I've been trying to do more of those things.

I've been trying to finally give myself permission to be me. Real. Honest. Unedited. Wouldn't that be a great gift to receive?

By the way, in case you're wondering, this birthday's not one of the "big ones," so I'm not having a mid-life crisis--just a thoughtful moment.

I'm Not Making This Up

Great eavesdropping doesn’t just happen in Walmart. Monday I was in Little Rock, trying to finish up my Christmas shopping, and while waiting in the checkout line at Best Buy, I overheard a priceless conversation.

An elderly couple was in line behind me. I heard him say to his wife in a shocked voice, “Look over there at that yellow thing. It says, ‘Kill Bill.’”

“I think that’s the name of a movie,” she informed him.

“Oh,” he said. “I thought maybe it was talking about Bill Clinton.”

I hope they couldn’t see my shoulders shaking.

Warning: May Cause Premature Aging

My son Travis is an adjunct History Instructor at Arkansas State University this year. The other day, one of his students came to visit him during his office hours. As the student was leaving the conference, he said, “We’ve been trying to figure out just how old you are. At first, we had you pegged mid-twenties, but you know so much about stuff that had to have happened way before you were born. The more you talk, the older we think you must be.”

“Well,” Travis asked, “how old do you all think I am now?”

“Mid-to-late thirties is what we’ve come up with,” the student replied.

“You had it about right the first time,” Travis said with a grin.

“But how do you know so much about what’s gone on in the world when you’re so young?”

Travis said the first thing that entered his mind was that he’d read or been read to all of his life.

Only after that did it occur to him that having both a BA and an MA in History and being almost finished with a second Masters Degree in Political Science might be contributing factors.