I used to think I was a really "let it roll off my back" kinda person, but if I sit here and think about it for oh, a split second...not so much. In fact, I seem to be less tolerant than I used to be. I get easily irritated when people walk a pinch too slow in front of me. Heaven forbid someone doesn't use their blinker on Main St. And oh my how my feathers will ruffle if some Junior High girl is talking in her loudest, squeakiest, "and then I told him all about so and so who told me that she was texting him while he was texting me" voice right.in.my.ear.
I used to not care so much or shall I say it wasn't as noticed. Does this mean I'm getting older and thereby more "cranky"?! Are the next words out of my mouth going to be, "Kids these days! Turn whatever that is down! Some of us work for a living!"?!
I shake my fist and yell....HELL NO!! And here's why:
1. I like my music loud. Not sound warp loud but I love to roll down the highway to clear my mind while blaring music. Sometimes it's some 80's mashup of Phil Collins or Metallica. Another time it's Loretta and Split Lip Rayfield. No matter, if I'm in the mood, it's gonna be so loud that my seat vibrates and I can feel it in my heart, in more ways than the obvious. If you don't know what that feels like, oh man, you just aren't living right.
2. I laugh at any and all bodily functions. Yeah. Nothing beats a good fart. It's something that all of us do, there's even a book called Everyone Poops. Of course everyone knows what it feels like to fumble with house key while doing the peepee dance. You rush in the house dropping the groceries, damn the eggs anyway, lose the purse along the way, unzip, unbutton, squiggle out of, sit down JUST in the nick of time annnnnnnnd, whooosh! Ahhh. Sweet Lord, I almost peed my pants. If you didn't smile and nod your head in agreement to that, go drink a lot of water and hold it til I say when.
3. Babies. I love their smell, the coo's, the little grin that comes over their face when they pass gas. (see, back to farting) I love to hold them and squish their squishy little fat rolls. I love even more the fact that I don't have to wake up in the middle of the night to tend to them. (um, what does this whole baby thing have to do with the getting cranky/old subject? Not sure, just go with it)
4. I play Bejewelled Blitz at work. Yeah, I said it. I'm not always nose to the grindstone. This girl needs a break from the coding and billing and researching! It's good for the company in the long run. I mean, do they really want me all burned out? I think not. See, an old cranky person wouldn't screw off while at work, would they?
One final thought, age is nothing but a state of mind, right? And we change our minds oh, a bajillion times a day. So, on any given day/moment I can be like a curious 4 year old. Or maybe a rebellious teen. Ooh, how about a whiney "my jeans don't fit" 35 year old? I may be a bit less tolerant, cranky, older...whatever the case may be, I'm just gonna have to roll with it. Just use your blinker, mmkay?
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