I think being chronically ill and feeling “old” before my time has changed my perspective on aging.

I’m already thinking back on my life thus far like a senior citizen would.

I didn’t ride as many roller-coasters or carnival rides as I would have liked to. Why was I so scared of that one coaster? I could have touched the sky.

I didn’t get rip-roaring drunk often enough at the bar with old friends, back when I could still tolerate alcohol and not vomit down the side of someones car window.

I haven’t taken enough risks in life. Why did I always play it safe?

I didn’t force myself to stay awake to watch that second movie at the drive-in.

I didn’t feel like going to see the fireworks that year, I should have.

I was too lazy to take that long walk in the woods that weekend. Damn.

Then there’s another side of being chronically ill that is easily explained with this meme.

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When you’re sick day after dreary day, the idea of wrapping this shit up will appeal to you. If you’re lucky, the feeling will pass and you will fight to live another day.

I feel older than my age dictates that I should feel. I partially blame the media for this.

People in their early 40’s are at rooftop parties drinking Corona and doing the fucking Cha Cha Cha and there I am, laying on my couch giving those teenyboppers on my TV screen the bird.

Or are they in their 30’s? I can’t tell. All I know is that I wouldn’t have the energy to attend a rooftop Corona party. And even if I did, I probably wouldn’t enjoy myself anyways.

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Fuck off party-goers. 

Alcohol is the only thing that turns me into an extrovert, better known as “please, dear Lord, shut up.”

The chances of me being invited to and able to actually attend a rooftop party (I love Corona’s) will never happen. I know, it’s an extreme example.

I should have used a book club meeting at the library instead.

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