Today is my last day of captivity, aka, approved medical leave from work. I have vacation tomorrow and then another day after Memorial Day, so I will be back to the grind next week on Wednesday. Kind of mixed emotions about it, because who really wants to go back to work, but then, who wants to be trapped in their home with a bum foot with nothing to do?
Due to my boring little life as of late, I haven't really blogged much. Last night I was called out on Facebook for not blogging for a while, so, as I laid in bed last night, I tried to think of what has happened that I could blog about. I have had a few things that were blog worthy, but I can't really blog about them due to the key players might not enjoy my version of the story. Anyway, I got a mini flashlight, a piece of paper and a pen and jotted some things down before falling asleep. I woke up this morning, and here is what I had on the post-it:
- Sex after 60
- Betty White
- Hugh Heffner
- Walking farts
Ok, so clearly I have some explaining to do.
So, the other day, the presence of Cosmo magazine in my home led to another discussion about sex. I was informed that by 60 years of age, sex will be just a thing of the past. I was kind of saddened by that, if it is true. I mean, I don't think that Will and I will be like Betty White or Hugh Heffner being the face of elderly virility, but still. I have had a lot of time to think about what getting old looks and feels like as I sit on the couch day in and day out not being able to enjoy the beautiful weather and being in pain with every move I make. But none the less, I'm holding on to the hope that I can get healthier and party like a rock star well into my 80's at least.
For example, take a look at my grandma. She is like, 84, I think, and she runs around her little farm taking care of her goats, chickens and cows and her significant other is 20+ years younger than her. Try keeping up with her! However, I have been told by my mother and others around her age, that somewhere around 60 is about the time that the walking farts kick in. I don't care what scenario you create, the walking farts are not sexy. Apparently, you get to be of a certain age where you just can't keep them in. Thusly, you are just walking along and "toot" there it is. I can picture it now...I've got my walker, I'm shuffling it along, seductively gyrating my hips (or the gyrating could be because I have a bad hip), heading for Will. He pops a blue pill and then reaches for his oxygen. As I get closer, an attack of the walking farts kicks in and it's like magic, you know why? Because Will can't hear anymore and his hearing aid is off. That's right, when his walker collides with mine, it's as if we weren't elderly anymore, it's like we are spring chickens again....and then, it's back to watching Wheel of Fortune for post coitus cool down.
I know women can do kegel exercises for their girl parts, surely there must be some sort of butt clenching exercise to stop the walking farts? I can picture the workout now, "Squeeze...and hold....good, now squeeze and hold, that's right, you're working up a sweat now! Buns of steel are in your future!" Instead of it being called "Sweating to the Oldies" it can be called "Sweating with the Oldies." I don't know, just a thought.
Anyway, clearly, as I spend hours coloring in my My Little Pony coloring book and watching daytime TV, the monotonous hours have taken a toll on my brain activity. I'm hoping that someday I will be able to fully walk on my foot again and once again join society as a functional human being. I don't exactly know what I am going to do about foot wear when I return to work. I can't wear anything other than some single strap flip-flops. I can kind of wear Crocs. Maybe I'll get some Crocs and bedazzle them! See what happens when you spend too much time coloring?
Well, I guess that is enough blogging for today, I think most of you probably agree. Some people have been spared today and for that...you are welcome.
Before I go, a shout-out to my good pal's Valerie and Dan for coming to visit me in my primitive state while in captivity. Also, to those that brought me ice cream, you saved me. We won't talk about what happened on the scale this morning, but this too shall pass. And, to Will...for better or worse...till death do us part.
Here's to being back to kicking ass next week! woot woot.
Due to my boring little life as of late, I haven't really blogged much. Last night I was called out on Facebook for not blogging for a while, so, as I laid in bed last night, I tried to think of what has happened that I could blog about. I have had a few things that were blog worthy, but I can't really blog about them due to the key players might not enjoy my version of the story. Anyway, I got a mini flashlight, a piece of paper and a pen and jotted some things down before falling asleep. I woke up this morning, and here is what I had on the post-it:
- Sex after 60
- Betty White
- Hugh Heffner
- Walking farts
Ok, so clearly I have some explaining to do.
So, the other day, the presence of Cosmo magazine in my home led to another discussion about sex. I was informed that by 60 years of age, sex will be just a thing of the past. I was kind of saddened by that, if it is true. I mean, I don't think that Will and I will be like Betty White or Hugh Heffner being the face of elderly virility, but still. I have had a lot of time to think about what getting old looks and feels like as I sit on the couch day in and day out not being able to enjoy the beautiful weather and being in pain with every move I make. But none the less, I'm holding on to the hope that I can get healthier and party like a rock star well into my 80's at least.
For example, take a look at my grandma. She is like, 84, I think, and she runs around her little farm taking care of her goats, chickens and cows and her significant other is 20+ years younger than her. Try keeping up with her! However, I have been told by my mother and others around her age, that somewhere around 60 is about the time that the walking farts kick in. I don't care what scenario you create, the walking farts are not sexy. Apparently, you get to be of a certain age where you just can't keep them in. Thusly, you are just walking along and "toot" there it is. I can picture it now...I've got my walker, I'm shuffling it along, seductively gyrating my hips (or the gyrating could be because I have a bad hip), heading for Will. He pops a blue pill and then reaches for his oxygen. As I get closer, an attack of the walking farts kicks in and it's like magic, you know why? Because Will can't hear anymore and his hearing aid is off. That's right, when his walker collides with mine, it's as if we weren't elderly anymore, it's like we are spring chickens again....and then, it's back to watching Wheel of Fortune for post coitus cool down.
I know women can do kegel exercises for their girl parts, surely there must be some sort of butt clenching exercise to stop the walking farts? I can picture the workout now, "Squeeze...and hold....good, now squeeze and hold, that's right, you're working up a sweat now! Buns of steel are in your future!" Instead of it being called "Sweating to the Oldies" it can be called "Sweating with the Oldies." I don't know, just a thought.
Anyway, clearly, as I spend hours coloring in my My Little Pony coloring book and watching daytime TV, the monotonous hours have taken a toll on my brain activity. I'm hoping that someday I will be able to fully walk on my foot again and once again join society as a functional human being. I don't exactly know what I am going to do about foot wear when I return to work. I can't wear anything other than some single strap flip-flops. I can kind of wear Crocs. Maybe I'll get some Crocs and bedazzle them! See what happens when you spend too much time coloring?
Well, I guess that is enough blogging for today, I think most of you probably agree. Some people have been spared today and for that...you are welcome.
Before I go, a shout-out to my good pal's Valerie and Dan for coming to visit me in my primitive state while in captivity. Also, to those that brought me ice cream, you saved me. We won't talk about what happened on the scale this morning, but this too shall pass. And, to Will...for better or worse...till death do us part.
Here's to being back to kicking ass next week! woot woot.
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