That is all I could hear in my mind as the doctor made her pronouncement. Just as I knew would happen, she decided that blood pressure meds were necessary. And it infuriated me.
The sheer anger that descended was an amalgamation of several things. It was a declaration of age, for one – that no matter how old I feel inside, the flesh is failing. It was a kind of Use By date stamped in my file. I have an expiration, of sorts, that I hadn’t really sensed before.
It was a pointed comment on working out – or not, as the case has been – this last month. I wanted to draw out my schedule, illustrate my life and how there IS NO TIME LEFT to me. She just blinked and said that we have to make time for ourselves. Really? How liberal of you. I’ve people to care for, dogs, a house, and a full time job so…yeah. All that Me time is gonna get carved out of that.
And it was a reminder – “Is that all there is?” – that what I have and know now is…not too damn much. But everytime I think that small thought, I can imagine charred foundations a few miles away. Which makes me feel old, fat, and fucking selfish.
I’m exhausted, folks. It has been a heinous month, this one isn’t getting better, and I could sleep for days…may as well start now.
(That whole hot chick video is making sense now, huh? Lure `em in with sex then crush them with pain. It’s a lot like marriage, this blogging thing.)