I was watching my second favorite elf, Dr. Oz, last week. The topic was metabolism boosters after the age of 40. Dr. Oz opened the show with this tidbit of inspiration “Turning 40 is a grim milestone. Your body’s first step towards death.” Now I’m 18 years old with almost 22 years of experience (think about it) so this was not what I wanted to hear on a happy, childless afternoon.
I depend on Dr. Oz for advice like “Your poop should be curved.” and “Don’t microwave your Tupperware.” I don’t need him to tell me I’m on the slippery slope to Grim Reaperville. Plenty of people are reminding me every day. Recently I was at the optometrist’s office whining about how I badly I want Lasik surgery. Dr. Meany said, “You know you’ll be 40 soon and you’re going to need bifocals. Even if you get Lasik you’ll still need reading glasses. You should have had Lasik when you were young.”
I had a hair appointment on Friday. I asked my gal, Ms. Perky, to color my hair chocolate brown. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so, honey. When you’re older you NEVER want to go darker.” Then she gave me the phone number of a combination weight loss/Botox clinic. “Or maybe we could go with some bangs…” I saw my dermatologist recently for the always humiliating Annual Mole Check.
I am the shade of a vampire – sans sparkles. Also, I have a history of sunbathing with baby oil and aluminum foil. A yearly consult is a MUST. Dr. Smoothface asked me if I’m using my Retin-A. I assured her that it is my number one addiction of choice followed closely by sarcasm and Diet Dr. Pepper. “Well it’s not working. You need something stronger.” The only person who is being nice about my impending Birthday Of Doom is The Toaster Oven.
“You don’t look *that bad* for your age. It would be worse if you hadn’t stopped smoking years ago. At least you have all your teeth.” Thank you, Toaster Oven. You can foot the bill for my Botox and therapy appointments.