At the optometrist, I had to finally come to terms with a decision I had been avoiding and delaying. I finally consented to getting progressive lenses, aka bifocals. Two years ago, when I last had my eyes examined, I needed a prescription for both near sightedness and far sightedness. I balked at the idea of getting progressive lenses. I wasn't even fifty years old at that point! Instead, I spent way more money than I needed to and bought two new pairs of reading glasses and one pair of regular/driving glasses. I justified it by saying they were fashion accessories. Thing is, it's a pain in the rump to switch glasses. It's fine when I'm on the computer working on the AQs for a long period of time. It's another matter when I'm at a restaurant and have to take off my prescription sunglasses, put on my reading glasses to check out the menu, then replace those with my third pair of glasses.
I'm not sure why I was so resistant. After all, I've been much more accepting of my silver hair. Or have I? I have had a few strands of grey hair since I was in my early twenties. Both my maternal and paternal line lean towards early greying. In my thirties and forties, I played with my hair colour a lot. I've been everything from red to blue, pink to purple, black and white, rose-gold and all sorts of shades and hues in between. I've taken turns being a redhead, brunette, and blonde. My husband says that the lockdown was the major reason why I stopped dyeing my hair regularly, although blog evidence shows that I took a hiatus from coloring between 2018-19 and have taken other breaks to be a "silver fox". I wonder if it's because of those "innocent but stinging" comments that young children are so adept at delivering. I've had to explain many times to students that no, I'm not a grandma because I have grey hair.
Well, right now, I'm 51 years old. 50 is not as old as it used to be, supposedly. Start to type "50 is" into your Google search engine and you get "50 is the new 30" and "50 is not that old". People Magazine pointed out that the age of the characters in the first season of The Golden Girls is the same age of the characters in the Sex In The City sequel's first season of And Just Like That.
There are certain things that I'm going to accept as part of my age.
- my need for bifocals
- my grey hair (although I'll still dye it for fun or when I'm bored)
- my need for more sleep (and naps!)
- my dated musical tastes (happily stuck in the 1980s and 1990s)
- my clothing size (it took me forever to realize I'm more a size 14 than a size 10 like before)
- my hearing might not be as good (still waiting to hear back from the ear doctor)
- my occasional memory lapses
- the need to moisturize more than I used to
There are other things I'm not going to accept as part of my age.
- becoming stagnant in my learning (I may take my Media Part 2 AQ in the fall)
- refusing to consider new perspectives on my worldview (we can all be a bit less racist/abelist)
- the deterioration of my physical health (I'm still going to Cross Fit Canuck three times a week)
- staying put (my sister and I have plans in the works for another potential trip together)
- withdrawing into myself / shrinking my social circle (make new friends!)
- dressing a set way (I'll pick clothes that flatter my figure but that won't limit me from leggings!)
- neglecting romance (I still get "lovey dovey" with my hubby)
- trying new experiences (I have a plan of possibly getting a dog in 5-8 years)
I'm sure I'm missing a few things from each of these lists. I've ordered my new glasses with progressive lenses. They say it'll take a couple of weeks to get used to training my eyes to use the new prescription. I've been promised that if I truly cannot manage, I can always switch back to single prescription lenses. Now to figure out how to fit in those wonderful mid-day summer naps once I return to school!
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