Sometime in the last six months, total strangers have started addressing me as "Dear." Do I LOOK like I'm 110? Cause that sure makes me FEEL like I am.
If I am not already a senior citizen (isn't 60 the new 40?), I see it approaching at warp speed -- sort of like a runaway semi barreling down a steep Colorado mountain, or the light at the end of the tunnel that is an oncoming train. More and more people ask me if I am retired (like THAT is possible after the financial meltdown). I have belonged to AARP for several years, but they start trying to enlist you when you turn 50.
Jim does a great job styling my hair and coloring it brown. Surely that counts for SOMETHING? I drive a nifty little sports sedan. SHOOT, does the fact it's a sedan weigh against me?
I used to hate being called "Hon" or "Honey" by people whose only connection to me was the line at the bank or the restaurant in which I was eating. The southern and western use of "Ma'am" always sounded so much better.
But DEAR?
That makes me want to go out in the garden and eat worms.
Here's what I think...
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