Things are different now.
I am in an unusually crabby mood today. Actually, any day that I’m crabby is unusual, and today, not only am I crabby, but I’m the crabbiest I’ve been in a long time. I’m having my picture made today. A real picture. The kind that involves a photographer. Not a friend with a camera. A photographer that you would look up in the Yellow Pages, if the Yellow Pages still existed, and to whom you must pay money.
It’s not just the photographer, though. The bigger problem is that, on my next birthday, I will turn 60 years old.
Please, spare me the cheerful platitudes, e.g.,
“It beats the alternative!”
“You’re as young as you feel!”
“Age is only a number.”
“The older you get, the better you get.”
They are lies. All lies. Okay, “lie” is a little harsh. They are, at best, half-truths. And irrelevant half-truths at that. They don’t speak to the crux of the matter.
I don’t like becoming 60 years old. It’s changing me. It changes the way I make decisions. Yesterday, someone asked me if I was considering becoming certified to teach a particular subject. My answer?
“No. I think that particular ship has sailed.”
The truth is that I would LOVE to become certified to teach this particular subject. When I was 50, the answer would have been, “Why, yes! That’s my plan.” But I’m not 50 anymore. Now I’m turning 60. Now the conversation in my head is different.
“Hmmm, let’s see, this part would take about 2 weeks.
“Then the next part would take about 6 months.
“And then I would have to take the tests and I’m not sure even when those would be offered.
“And by the time it was all said and done, it could cost anywhere from $5,000 to $10,000. Wow, that’s a lot of money.
“Plus another $5,000 at a minimum for the equipment that I would need.
“How quickly could I make that money back once I was certified? Or would I ever make it back?”
“No. That particular ship has sailed.”
Translation: There is a considerable time commitment and I’m afraid to let go of that much money.
I have to husband my resources. I used to love that phrase. Now that it is a part of every decision I make, I don’t love it so much. It makes me crabby.