Today is my sixtieth birthday. I spent the whole week on the run up to today being depressed. I haven't felt my chronological age for years. I'm always shocked when I look in the mirror. I still expect to see a younger face and I won't even mention my body. My hair is getting thinner, there are deeper wrinkles around my eyes and frown creases at the corners of my mouth. When I put on lipstick within ten minutes it's flowed into those little lines around my lips like tributaries. I guess that is what sixty looks like on me.
Yes, I could do Botox or Lypo suction but I probably won't. I could lose weight and work out at a gym but I probably won't do that either. Instead I'm throwing myself a birthday party and doing my best to celebrate the fact that I made it to sixty. After all, it could be worse. I could be turning eighty.
