In the next year...

From Imagination Prompt:

I'm going to...

I wish I could come up with something fabulous and exciting but the one thing that looms over me this year is my next birthday. In August, I will turn 50. Age is just a number but, honestly, that's a pretty damn big number. The half century mark. How did I reach this point?!

Well, I've just about decided that anybody who does reach 50 is probably pretty fortunate. No, it's not like the olden days when reaching even 25 was a milestone but when you think about all the things which can take us out of this world, reaching 50 is actually an accomplishment. And, anyway, what choice do I have? Grow old or die young. I'll take the growing old as long as my body is working and my brain is still functioning -- but we don't really get a choice in that either, do we?

I don't feel 50. I don't think I look 50 (but I'm probably not the one to judge). I find myself speculating about somebody else's age and thinking, "he must be at least 50" and then have to remind myself that so am I. I guess 50 sits differently on everyone.

In my head, I still feel about 25 -- I'm still a rock and roll girl though the volume's been turned down a bit. I've lived long enough to know when it's necessary to be serious and when it's absolutely imperative to be silly. And that sometimes both are needed during the same situation. I don't know everything but I know a lot more than I did at 25. So, maybe in another 25 years, I'll really have some wisdom to impart.

But don't count on it. I'll probably be even sillier by then.