Dear 19-year-old-me,
Last night I played softball for the first time in several years. It wasn’t pretty. And a friend who’s only slightly older than me went down hard with a pulled hamstring. I was not so unfortunate, although my hamstrings are screaming at me today. Which reminds me, who decided to call them hamstrings? I always picture a bunch of pigs playing stringed instruments when I hear that word—like a piggy string ensemble.
Today I had to take several headshots for some upcoming events. When I had the chance to review them, I was not pleased. I looked old and chubby. What happened to you, 19-year-old-me? When did these wrinkles around my eyes become so pronounced? When did my gut start poking out? When did hair start growing out of my ears and nose at a breakneck speed? When did I start grunting every time I stand up?
When did YOU become ME? Read the rest of this entry
