69

So, today is my 69^th birthday. Holy freaking shit – last year in my sixties. I am currently drinking a Bloody Mary (yes, I see the irony 😊) and writing this blog post, though it’s written already if you are reading it. Do I come across as a tad bitchy/snarky today?  This week is kind of a mish mash of “stuff.” I am starting the search for a new Rotary club. I am a proud Rotarian who left a club I cherished when I moved south to be closer to my children and grandchildren. I had a health scare in December (another blog) and made the difficult decision to relocate. It hasn’t been easy but I am determined to embrace my new normal. Rotary is the best way to get to my new normal. I just need to find the right fit of people and projects. My first meeting was this morning and I am encouraged. I plan to visit six other clubs in the area before I make an informed decision. I need to be busy. I am not someone who can sit in front of the television for more than a few minutes without dozing off. I don’t know if it’s the quality of the offerings or because now I am 69. I also want to find a part-time job. Or maybe this blog can generate some income. Adult diapers anyone? I have also submitted applications to some “age-specific” meet-up groups and am currently in the vetting process. Some groups accept you sight unseen. Others have a more stringent process. I will let you know if I am “up to snuff.” Other activities this week, other than another Rotary club meeting, include getting my nails done (a girl needs to keep herself groomed in case Mr. Right comes along you know….oh puh-leeze—again another blog and that’s when the naughty, opinionated me comes out), picking up prescriptions at Walgreen’s (I won’t be specific, but I am 69 now, so figure it out) an EEG tomorrow (again, I am 69 now, folks) and, a birthday gift to myself later this week – a 90-minute massage. Ahhhh! Sooo, all things considered, life is good. I miss my husband and his sweet smile and endearing quirks. This blog is called Widow’s Pique, so soon I will address what being a widow means to me and perhaps offer insight to others dealing with the same. In the meantime, holy freaking shit, I am 69 today! Pass the Metamucil. And the vodka. Happy last birthday in my damn 60s to me!