Ok, so a friend told me, in a meaningful and affirmative way, that my new picture on my new company’s website is not horrible.  She said, “it looks like you.”  Excuse me while I have a body lift. Don’t think that I wasn’t being self-affirming in that statement.  My first thought was: excuse me while I put my head in the oven.

After 45 years, I have got to come to terms with what I look like.  I have to stop hoping that a glamorous woman is going to stare back at me in the mirror one morning.  Years ago, I had an apartment mate who believed she would wake up one morning transformed into a six-foot tall blonde. Ok, the blonde part could be done. But growing 12 inches when you are 22? Nah. This is a long winded way (who, me?) of saying, I used to laugh about that until I realized that I have the same insane delusions.

Too things about aging really annoy me:

(1) puffy eyes. I have those now from doing the client/prospective client blitz now that I changed jobs.  And I spent the last two days at a conference schmoozing people I never met before.

(2) sagging neck skin. If only my neck skin wasn’t starting to do the chicken dance.

One part is getting easier with age. People (mis)take my gray hair for experience and knowledge. Would I be less smart if I got my hair colored?