i've been 40 for less than a week and it seems the signs are there folks. i am old. as in the little old lady of yesteryear.
there is evidence mind you, i'm not making it up. and if for any reason you thought me hip i'm about to blow it all out of the water. evidence. it's there. it's there in the tiny bits of fallout from the tissue i left in my pocket when the jeans went into the wash.
it's there in the cough drops i stash in my underwear drawer, the bright red lipstick that slips to the corners of my mouth and the hacking cough i wake up to every morning before my tea.
evidence. it's there. it's there when the college kids ride their bikes right in front of the car and it's all i can do to NOT channel granny and yell "Stupid Ass!" it's there when i find myself in a store like Forever 21 and Sparks comes on and I want to tell everyone "I can't believe they're playing Sparks!" and then i look down at my mismatched socks and too-tight, too short slacks and blush the pinkiest shade of pink. just the fact that i refer to my black pants as slacks is cause for some biddiness, no? or how about when i went to buy said slacks i hovered over the rack that carried them with elastic waist-bands? evidence my friends, evidence. it's there.
next thing you know i will be drinking wine...from a box. i will keep a handful of butterscotch candies in my purse and attempt to hand them out to the kiddos that pop up in my periphery. i may or may not take to hiding almond rocca in the freezer and i just may rediscover my love of A Price Is Right, Drew Carey and all. just wait, all i need is a house coat, quilted of course, and i'll be a happy camper sitting on the davenport armed with my sudoku books, a magnifying glass and the remote control.