Okay I'll admit it. I've been in a mood.
I had hoped it would break or dissolve away and I could get on with life.
But it didn't and I'll have to learn to adjust I guess.
I joined a Senior Center. Yes, one of those places for old farts to park for the day because they have no where else to go to get out of the house.
But its not like that really. Its more like a club where we all the members remember where we were when JFK died.
I'll admit that my Gothy self is a bit shy of the place. Sunny and bright, busy and festive, games and lots of things to do. All types of exercise classes and dancing too.
For a mere five dollars a year I get to miss the odd looks at the college gym as I trudged off to yoga class that cost me eight dollars a session with young things that can make their bodys do the most... You get the picture.
So I switched. I'm now with my own set.... What!!!!!
So I'm old. Wrinkly... A S-e-n-i-o-r C-i-t-i-z-e-n.
The trouble is I don't feel old. I feel the same.
I may not want to hang out with teenagers all the time, but I don't feel like I need to be cast off just yet.
When did this getting old thing happen to me? Well, to tell the truth, years ago.
I couldn't stop it.
The days just kept on going by.
I've been eligible for some time now. I fought it.
'Not for me.' I said. 'Not a place for gothy types.' 'Too happy in a very sad sort of way.' 'It has bingo.' (Enough said.)
I go at least once a week now. Belly dancing, Tai chi, group jigsaw puzzles, crafting groups, knitting/crochet groups, line dancing, aerobics... The list goes on.
Some people still stare. But the comments now are more likely to be 'My grandson/daughter wears that stuff and I kinda like it, but I can't tell my son/daughter that.'
So I guess I'll just have to get use to the fact that I'm getting older. Thing is, I think I'm gonna' try to find the fun in doing it. And some of that fun is at my Senior Center. Go figure!