I'd still like to bring some laughter to start your weekend off right, and am pleased to introduce another humor writer who never fails to make me smile. Please welcome Roxanne Jones of Boomer Haiku to Meno Mama's site today! She was kind enough to rescue me when I was struggling to write a new post. My muse is still in grief mode, but with the help of my family and their humorous antics, I'm sure I can bring the funny back soon. Meanwhile, enjoy this hilarious post--- "8 lies I Tell Myself"---from Roxanne, and be sure to give her lots of comment love!
8 LIES I TELL MYSELF
One of the benefits of getting older is
the self-awareness we acquire (well, some of us, anyway—certain
presidential contenders are obvious exceptions). But I digress.
I hate to admit it, but I’ve become
aware of some lies I’ve been telling myself at this age. To wit (in
no particular order):
I don’t have to write it down;
I’ll remember it.
How deluded am I? Without committing it
to paper, that middle-of-the-night inspiration for a blog post won’t
be there in the morning. If that online funds transfer isn’t
entered into my check register when I actually make the transfer,
I’ll forget and likely end up bouncing a check. And if I don’t
make a list of the six items I need at the grocery store, I’ll
invariably come home with only five.
I’ll go for a walk at lunchtime.
I justify dawdling over a cup of tea
and the morning news—instead of getting my ass out the door for a
walk—by telling myself I’ll walk at lunchtime instead. But then
lunchtime comes and I’m hungry, I get caught up in work, or I
simply forget. The road to hell (and cardio unfitness) is
paved with good intentions.
I’ll fit into those jeans again.
Oh, please. I’ve been hanging on to
them for nine years now. I am not a size four anymore, and they don’t
even have Spandex in them. Besides, medical science says it’s good
to carry a few extra pounds as we get older. That’s my story and
I’m sticking to it.
Next spring, I’ll keep up with the
weeding.
Gung ho at the
start of every growing season, I tell myself that I’ll get out
there and pull weeds in the garden at least once a week. Who am I
kidding? I honestly have absolutely no interest in gardening, I have
no time for it during the workweek, and kneeling in dirt with
spiders, worms and other crawly things is not how I want to spend my
free time on weekends. I’d rather pay someone else to do it.
This skin care product
is really going to make me look younger.
Hope springs eternal. But by now, I—and
my credit card—should know that no over-the-counter beauty product
is going to lift my jowls or get rid of my crow’s feet. Short of a
facelift, Botox or laser resurfacing, at best I’ll get
well-moisturized skin that, in the right light and at the right
angle, has its fine lines and wrinkles “minimized.” Sigh.
I’m not going to have wine
tonight.
I don’t need the empty calories. And
one glass invariably leads to two. But there’s something so
comforting about the ritual, especially at the end of a crazy-busy
workday. So while I start the day with the best of intentions
(there’s that word again) to forego wine, when I come downstairs
from the home office and Hubs asks me if I want a glass of
chardonnay, sometimes I just can’t say no. I’m sure he wishes I
were that easy when he offers other ways to de-stress.
It won’t hurt to wear high heels
just one more time.
Yeah, tell that to my aching back, sore
footpads and cramping calves. But vanity still prevails over common
sense every now and then. What can I say?
If I leave my smartphone in the
kitchen, I won’t feel compelled to look at it when I wake up in the
middle of the night.
Wrong. I haul myself out of bed,
retrieve it and spend way too long reading emails and visiting social
media sites in the wee hours. I should probably ask Hubs to hide my
phone at night. Or just exhibit some self-discipline and resist its
siren call.
I’m sure there are numerous other
ways in which I delude myself, but that’s all I can come up with
for now. What about you? Are there lies you tell yourself—that
you’re willing to fess up to here?
While you think about it, here’s this
week’s Boomer Haiku:
Lies we tell ourselves
give the illusion we’re in
control. Let’s get real.
BIO:
An award-winning copywriter for more
than 25 years, Roxanne Jones writes Boomer Haiku
(www.boomerhaiku.com), a
blog that takes a mostly light-hearted and often irreverent look at
life as a baby boomer as we move through midlife and beyond. She
recently launched the Boomer Haiku line of greeting cards, funny
cards for folks 50+ that aren’t insulting about age. They’re
available on her website.
You can follow her on:
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/boomerhaiku/
Twitter: @RoxJonesWriter
Pinterest:
https://www.pinterest.com/rjones2538/
