…this feelin’ inside. I always seem to have a song in my head. Oh well.
This has next to nothing to do about drinking and everything to do with life, mine. I was out walking along the lovely Riverwalk in town, when I realized I have never felt more alive, present and well, real in all my almost 64 years. I gotta tell you it’s age not just sobriety. It’s like a permanent pink cloud effect. A friend of mine is two years older, I remember her telling me when she turned sixty she felt better and happier than she ever had (she’s a Normie). I was still drinking then and remember thinking “you’re fucking 60 years old, are you crazy?” Now, not only sober but coming up on my 64th birthday, I get it, totally. So if you’re 40 or 50, trust me, the best is yet to come.
There’s this sense of freedom and wonder, I can’t really put it into words. I look forward to every day, and the everyday mundane things. Walking with friends, I appreciate them more, can empathize more. I understand. I LISTEN. Freezing the mega ton of tomatoes we have this year has become a joy, not a dreaded chore. Even though Ralph the Dog and Olive the Puppy are pains in the ass, I love every active minute I have with them. My Fitbit steps are off the charts, I’m averaging 14,000 a day! Woo fucking Hoo! Can we say tight ass, oh yes we can. And I mean that in a good way.
I never thought aging could feel so good. Oh I have my aches and twinges. Can’t get fucking “Arthur Ritis” off my back, I guess he’s here for the next 30 years. Doc said he usually comes to visit (say your prayers) EVERYONE in their 40’s but only really bothers some. Well he’s bothering me, m…f…er. But, he’s not stopping me. Where was I, oh, everything is better, even sex. Yep people there is sex in the 60’s. Not to worry. Ladies you get passed that, the kids, the tired, the I don’t feel like it I don’t have the urge stuff and it’s great. Better than before, more intimacy, more time, more touch, no rush. I’ve just ordered a couple books on better sex in your 60’s. We’re headed to the Outer Banks again for 2 weeks mid September, those will be my beach reads, wink wink.
Anyway in a very long circuitous route I’m trying to tell you to not be afraid of the passing of time. It only gets better. 60 is the new 40, I am living proof.
Now for the drinking part. I wouldn’t be enjoying my walks, my chores and I wouldn’t even fucking remember sex (happened to me a few times, those lovely blackouts) if I was still drinking. I wouldn’t be healthy because my blood pressure was climbing, where were the bruises coming from (again those blackouts). I was constantly remorseful and a bitch. Oh I can still put my bitch on, but rightfully so now. You won’t grow old if you continue to drink, life stops and it becomes the next drink. Sucks, man, just sucks.
So, on September 24th I’ll be singing a Beatles tune, but the answer will be a resounding HELL YES! I don’t think I did this video right but if you click in it you get it.
Before you listen, Huband #1 will hit 150 days on Friday. He’s not sure he’s happy about it but knows how disappointed I will be when he caves, stay tuned. He’s done great so far.
love you all, thanks for all the warm wishes for my two year post, don’t know that I’d be here without you all.