Now We Are 50
Those of you who read this blog for the knitting content -- there were three of you, I think, though now that PittsburghLive has described me as being ALL about the crafts and indeed dispensing knitting directions (which I think to be Untrue) there may be more of you, sorry, sorry, sorry -- can have some later, tomorrow or the next day. (I'm about to finish up another "Ab Fab" throw, though we don't want the friend for whom it's intended to be seeing it before her birthday, so you have to distract her while I post, ok?) NO knitting content today. And I repent me not of it.
Usually when I don't post knitting content I'm failing to provide knitting simply on account of the Dreadful Naughtiness of me, but today I have Special Dispensation, I figure, on account of I am actually really truly 50, instead of that nearly 50 I've been telling people I was.
I've been saying I was nearly 50 for a long time. A loooong time. The department secretary and I had quite the little tiff last year when I turned 49, because I could NOT get her to admit I was nearly 50. She finally agreed to admit I was nearly 50 if I would admit I was closer to 49. That was fair, and indeed I was, until about the middle of November.
Anyway. Now I'm 50. So I'm going to start telling everybody I'm nearly 60. If you look at things from a certain perspective -- that'd be MY perspective -- I am; at any rate, I'm certainly closer to 60 than, say, 39, or whatever.
I'm so immensely cheered by this, because I figure that now, for sure, I am at least halfway done. Surely surely surely I am not going to be required to stay on the planet past 100.
Though now that I think of it, time goes so fast as you get older, probably by the time you're 100, the years are just flashing by. 101, 102, 103: cakes come and go, TV crews interview you, the seasons roll around like a roulette wheel -- yeah. Probably tolerable.
But I'd rather move on earlier, frankly.
Teresa of Avila says that when you get to the center of the Interior Castle, at which point you are in union with the deity, you no longer desire to die so as to be unified with the deity, on account of being there already.
Cool.
But. In the meantime, being neither dead nor unified, I'm still stuck in the space-time continuum, with which, as I have mentioned earlier, I have a sort of dicey relationship.
A couple of mornings ago I woke up, and my first thought was "I'm nearly 70!" I was SO excited, but then I remembered where I was. Oh, well.
I do NOT think the secretary's going to buy that.
Usually when I don't post knitting content I'm failing to provide knitting simply on account of the Dreadful Naughtiness of me, but today I have Special Dispensation, I figure, on account of I am actually really truly 50, instead of that nearly 50 I've been telling people I was.
I've been saying I was nearly 50 for a long time. A loooong time. The department secretary and I had quite the little tiff last year when I turned 49, because I could NOT get her to admit I was nearly 50. She finally agreed to admit I was nearly 50 if I would admit I was closer to 49. That was fair, and indeed I was, until about the middle of November.
Anyway. Now I'm 50. So I'm going to start telling everybody I'm nearly 60. If you look at things from a certain perspective -- that'd be MY perspective -- I am; at any rate, I'm certainly closer to 60 than, say, 39, or whatever.
I'm so immensely cheered by this, because I figure that now, for sure, I am at least halfway done. Surely surely surely I am not going to be required to stay on the planet past 100.
Though now that I think of it, time goes so fast as you get older, probably by the time you're 100, the years are just flashing by. 101, 102, 103: cakes come and go, TV crews interview you, the seasons roll around like a roulette wheel -- yeah. Probably tolerable.
But I'd rather move on earlier, frankly.
Teresa of Avila says that when you get to the center of the Interior Castle, at which point you are in union with the deity, you no longer desire to die so as to be unified with the deity, on account of being there already.
Cool.
But. In the meantime, being neither dead nor unified, I'm still stuck in the space-time continuum, with which, as I have mentioned earlier, I have a sort of dicey relationship.
A couple of mornings ago I woke up, and my first thought was "I'm nearly 70!" I was SO excited, but then I remembered where I was. Oh, well.
I do NOT think the secretary's going to buy that.
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