Dropped my phone today under a desk. Bumped my head while trying to pick up that phone. You’d think it’s a scene out of a movie: some nerd girl who bumps into everything and drops everything, everywhere, all the time. Later she would turn into a beautiful lady swan or something. Nope, it’s just a regular day at the doctor’s office. I kid you not, I did all these things and a few more which, I would like to not discuss. I am sure the doctor and his nurse were thinking, “How do you not see that the desk is right there when you bent down to pick up the phone?” Well, that’s just what I do. I don’t calculate, I just bump into things or walk into them.
Okay fine, Ill write down the rest. Within the span of 20 minutes I discovered a stain on my scarf, which I tried to scratch off with my nail. Didn’t work, ended up chipping off a part of my nail in the process. Then I tried to cross my legs like proper people do. BIG FAIL. Somehow, I didn’t realize a piece of cloth had gotten stuck in the handle of the chair and that kept my leg from crossing completely so I was in a leg-crossing limbo for a bit. Not a swanlike position at all. My doctor was acting like he was typing on the computer, but I suspect he was done by that time was just pretending to type to give me time to “gather” myself.
There is no chance of me turning into a beautiful non-nerdy coolness of something or the other. Also most of these fantastical movies don’t have a 40 something crazy lady as the central character.
ALSO…why don’t they? We need love too. I mean I could have met a handsome man with a reasonable amount of tattoos and a liking for exotic foods and coffee, in that dungy old doctor’s office where everything stunk. Okay that was oddly and dangerously specific, even for my thoughts I suppose.
If, I wasn’t already married of course, and wasn’t preoccupied with the thoughts of making it home in time for dinner to feed the kids.
However, if all of those factors were not there and I was just another 40 year old I would make a great heroin for a movie.
The possibilities are endless.
I am, however 40…ummm…something…married or not…children or not, possibilities it seems are kind of not endless. They tell us 40 is the new 30. Yeah, well, tell that to my aching back buddy. It screams like a lot like a 40 year old. This was not supposed to be a dud of a post for once. I was supposed to write an uplifting funny piece about being an awkward 40 something. It turns out there isn’t a whole lot funny about being an awkward 40 year old.
No, wait there is something really fun about me. My kids love rocking out with me to old music. They don’t know yet that their mom is absolutely uncool, and is making them dance to totally uncool stuff. So, they ask me to put on Uncle Kracker and some other stuff that shall remain unidentified. We dance (to our heart’s desires) to the beats of my sons’ drums, which are imaginary and absolutely mesmerizing. So, weather you would know it from seeing me today or not; a couple of kindergarteners know I can still rock it.
For now that’s all the handsome I need.